


The Monster's Heart

by Nicchinacchi



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Bottom Will Graham, Breathplay, Cannibalism, Car Sex, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Desk Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Sugar Daddy, Tags Are Hard, Top Hannibal Lecter, Unprotected Sex, of a sort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 147,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicchinacchi/pseuds/Nicchinacchi
Summary: It all started with a bag.Well, to be perfectly honest, it started the moment Will first saw him in Jack's office, but for the sake of argument and in the interest of not wasting time, he'll say it started with a bag.That's not where it ends, of course, but he's not complaining about the ending, though there were a lot of complaints before that.In any case, it started with a bag.Or: the author just really wanted a fic with everything she wanted in it, she couldn't find it and decided FINE I'LL WRITE IT THEN.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 715
Kudos: 1305





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is self indulgence at its finest, my friends, I hope you will find it at least somewhat pleasing. This is my first time posting on ao3 and I'm doing it from my phone so if theres anything wonky going on in the text please tell me (hopefully with some tips on how to fix it). I've finished writing this whole thing and will be updating once a week (or at least that's the plan, wish me luck).
> 
> Enjoy!!

”Will.”

Will looked up from the medical journal he'd been idly flipping through and shuffled closer to the railing to look at Hannibal at his desk down below. He couldn’t identify what building Hannibal had been sketching, but he was sure that each crack in the sketch was true to life.

”Yes?” he asked.

”Our hour is up,” Hannibal said, standing.

Will blinked. He glanced down at his watch (because Hannibal didn’t appear to believe in clocks seeing as there wasn’t single one in his office). It was exactly 8 o'clock. He put the journal back with a frown.

”Sorry,” he said as he made for the ladder. “We didn’t even talk about anything.”

”With you, Will, I’ve taken that to mean that you don’t have anything to worry about at the moment,” Hannibal replied. 

Will thought of how he'd woken up at three in the morning from another nightmare and shook his head. “Nothing beyond the usual.” 

”Would you like to talk about that?” Hannibal asked. 

”I thought out hour was up.” 

”It’s not as if I have patients after you, Will,” Hannibal said, “and it’s not as if you’re actually patient.” 

Will huffed, amused. “Maybe next week.” 

Hannibal smiled cordially, waiting at the bottom of the ladder to make sure Will got down all right. He always did that. Will wondered if any of his other patients had fallen. 

”Would you like to join me for dinner?” Hannibal’s hands hovered over Will once he was close enough though he didn’t actually touch. 

”Sure,” Will answered easily. The dogs wouldn’t need him for a while and when being offered the choice between free gourmet food and leftovers _this_ close to being inedible…

The delight in Hannibal’s eyes was unmistakable. “Wonderful.” 

They got their coats on and Hannibal locked up. Will followed behind Hannibal’s car despite already knowing the way from the numerous other times he’d had dinner at Hannibal’s. He hung up his coat on a hook a little voice in his head called his and joined Hannibal in the kitchen. 

They discussed an article Will had skimmed in the journal while Hannibal cooked, moving on to other things as they ate. Hannibal was easy to talk to. At least when he wasn’t pushing Will to confront his demons, but even then it was a lot less excruciating than with other psychiatrists whose care he had been under. 

”I'm truly glad you accepted my invitation tonight, Will,” Hannibal said as he placed dessert on the table. 

”Sounds like there’s a reason behind that,” Will remarked. 

”I have something for you,” Hannibal said. 

”What?” 

”Let me get it.” 

”I – wait – what?” 

”I will only be a moment, Will.” 

Will watched him leave the room. He would’ve called this an odd dream as he slept in his office, but this wasn’t his usual kind of weird. Not exactly doctor-patient or not, gift giving wasn’t a thing they did. Too…friendly. He wouldn’t call them _not_ friends but he didn’t think they were really _friends_ either. 

He wanted to, though.

The soft sounds of Hannibal’s shoes on dark wood floors heralded his return and soon Will was accepting an unmarked box into his hands. 

”Please, feel free to open it now,” Hannibal said in that way he had of making it sound more like an order than a request. 

Will removed the lid and shifted aside the blue tissue, not wanting to make a mess. His breath caught when he finally saw what was inside. 

A dark brown leather messenger bag with a simple design and gold buckles. Genuine leather, too, given the faint scent clinging to the butter soft material. 

”I couldn’t help but notice the damage to the strap of your bag during our last session,” Hannibal explained. “I thought to get you a new one before it truly broke.” 

”Your timing is slightly terrifying,” Will said, voice low. 

”Why so?” 

Will looked up at him, lip quirked in a smile. “The strap actually just broke while I was tossing it in my car before I went to our appointment.” He took a deep breath. “But, I can’t—"

”Please, Will,” Hannibal interrupted, “it’s a gift. Surely there’s nothing wrong with getting a gift for a friend?” 

Huh. So they were friends. Will licked his lips and hid a smile. 

”Thank you, Hannibal.” 

”You’re very welcome, Will.” There was something almost smug in Hannibal’s expression and it calmed Will enough to put the box aside and pick up his fork. 

”You never mentioned what this was,” he said. 

”My apologies. In front of you is a dark chocolate cheesecake with a raspberry bourbon sauce topped with edible rose petals covered in a simple syrup. I hope you enjoy it.” 

=¤=

Once Will arrived home, he took care of the dogs before sitting at his bed to transfer his things into the new bag. He tried not to think about how obviously expensive it was. 

_It’s a gift._

Will shook his head and told himself the heat in his cheeks was because he’d just been playing with his dogs. 

He opened the bag, marveling again at the softness of the leather. It had a bunch of compartments and pockets and even a couple pen holders, but before he could fully explore it, he got distracted by the fact that it wasn’t empty. 

The note was written on thick, cream cardstock and rested atop a woolen hat and scarf in dark navy. It read: _It will be getting cold soon. Stay warm, Will._

A slightly hysterical laugh passed Will’s lips. He texted Hannibal before he could actually think about it. 

_Have I ever told you that you’re just a little bit ridiculous?_

Hannibal, to the surprise of no one, replied seconds later. 

_I thought it better to hide them inside so you couldn’t get a chance to reject them._

Buster got his front paws up on the bed and sniffed at the bag. Will gave him a few pets before returning to his phone: _I could just leave them in your office next week._

_Are they not to your satisfaction?_

Will rolled his eyes. _You know that’s not the issue._

_Perhaps we can discuss it during our next session._

_Is it because you don’t like texting?_

_Good night, Will._

Will laughed, significantly less hysterical than the last one. 

_Good night, Dr. Lecter._

He transferred his things, finding several expired coupons, a few still usable coupons and a folded up Thai delivery menu he’d gotten from Beverly weeks ago. He doubted they’d deliver as far out as his place. 

Hannibal probably knew plenty Thai recipes. 

He pushed the thought out of his head. He put the (ridiculously soft, of course) hat and scarf on a table out of his dogs’ reach and got ready for bed. 

With any luck, he’d be able to sleep. 

=¤=

As Will was walking out of the cafeteria, sandwiches (terrible sandwiches) in hand, he heard a voice call his name. He turned around smiling when he saw Alana. 

”Hey,” Alana greeted. “Wanna eat together?” 

”Sure.” He tensed slightly when Alana led him to a table already containing Beverly and Zeller. He told himself to calm down and managed to smile back when they greeted. 

”Been a couple weeks since we last saw you,” Beverly said, stirring her bowl of watery soup. 

”No offense, but I consider that a good thing,” Will said. 

Beverly grinned. “I guess you have a point.” 

”It’s been pretty boring,” Zeller said, nodding. 

”Please don’t call a lack of grisly murders ‘boring',” Alana implored. 

”That’s not what I meant,” Zeller retorted. 

”That’s definitely what it sounded like,” Beverly shot back. 

”Well, now I’m saying that that’s not what I meant.” 

”Where’s Price?” Will interjected. 

”Right behind you, Will!” 

Will looked over as Price plopped his tray down next to him, familiar cheery grin on his face. His eyes dropped to the bag at Will’s feet and widened. “Nice bag, is it new?” 

”Um, yeah,” Will answered. “My old one broke—"

”Great choice,” Price said, not letting Will fully explain. “That’s one of the good ones – costs $1700, I think.” 

_What?_

”Yeah, go, Will!” Beverly cheered. “Splurge! You deserve it.” 

”No, I didn’t buy it,” Will rushed out. “Sorry, you said _seventeen hundred dollars?_ ”

Price nodded, mouth full, as Zeller asked; “Where’d you get it, then?” 

”Gift from Dr. Lecter,” Will managed to say, mind still echoing with _seventeen hundred dollars._

”Isn’t he your psychiatrist?” Beverly asked. 

”Not officially,” Will said, eyes drifting to the _seventeen–fucking–hundred dollar bag_ at his feet. Maybe he should get it off the floor. 

He jumped when a hand landed on his arm. He looked up to see Alana's warm smile. 

”Don’t think about it too much,” she said. “I get that the price bothers you, but you’re already using it and…well, Hannibal is Hannibal. I asked him once about a good place to get a Dutch oven because I wanted to try making my own bread and the next day I got a delivery of not just a high quality Dutch oven, but also a bunch of different sized loaf pans, a fully equipped stand mixer and three different books on making bread complete with some of Hannibal’s own bread recipes.” 

”I think I got off light, then,” Will muttered, making Alana laugh. 

”How do I make friends with Dr. Lecter?” Zeller asked. 

”I would also love expensive gifts from attractive older men,” Price said. 

”I cannot imagine him having any interest in becoming friends with either of you,” said Beverly. “He might have a slight intellectual interest just because you’re both weirdos.” 

Price shrugged. “He can pick my brain in exchange for a new watch.” 

”I’ll take a winter coat,” said Zeller. 

”Can we move on from this vein of conversation?” Will interjected. He tried not to think of what Price had implied. Like Alana said: Hannibal was Hannibal and that was it. 

”What does Jack have you guys working on?” Alana asked, helping out. 

Price and Zeller went on about an old case with new evidence, Beverly tossing Will a wink. Will ducked his head. It was to unwrap his sandwich. Definitely not to hide the flush on his cheeks. 

Absolutely not. 

_Seventeen hundred dollars._

Christ.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided screw it I'll be updating three times a week instead of once since it's not like I have much going on rn. This is also quite a bit longer than the previous chapter which is wild to me. Tell me if you see any mistakes and I hope you enjoy!!

It really was getting cold, Will noted as he entered Hannibal's waiting room. He was glad he’d decided to use the scarf he’d been given.

Though, of course, the _only_ reason he was wearing it was because of the cold. 

Yeah. 

He resolutely ignored the warmth in his chest at the widening of Hannibal’s smile upon seeing the scarf and walked into the office. 

”Uncle Jack still hasn’t asked you for help with anything,” Hannibal said, closing the door. 

”Thankfully,” Will sighed. He paused next to the chaise, wondering if Hannibal would be all right with him lying down for their session. He glanced over his shoulder. “Did it really cost $1700?” 

”$1748 and 50 cents, yes,” Hannibal answered, unbuttoning his jacket and taking his usual seat. 

Screw it, Will was claiming the chaise. “That’s a lot.” 

”Is it?” Hannibal asked. “I have no small amount of wealth, Will, why shouldn’t I use it on my friends?” 

_Friends._

Will got his shoes off and lay down, face half hidden in the (thoroughly unnecessary in his opinion) silk throw pillow. He stared at Hannibal for a moment then said: “Alana told me about asking you for a Dutch oven recommendation.” 

”That, I admit, might have been a touch excessive,” Hannibal conceded. 

”At which point do you think it became ‘a touch excessive’?” said Will. 

”The books,” Hannibal replied. “One would have sufficed, I think.” 

Will snorted, muffling it with the pillow. “I’m pretty sure you reached excessive the moment you went beyond a recommendation for a Dutch oven, Dr. Lecter.” 

”I became excited at the thought of a friend developing an interest in culinary pursuits,” Hannibal defended, though he still seemed amused. 

”Would you do the same if someone asked for a place to buy a sweater?” said Will. 

Hannibal cocked his head. “Do you need winter wear, Will?” 

Will quickly shook his head. “No, no, it was just an example, just a hypothetical.” 

”Did you have a particular fabric in mind?” 

_”Hannibal.”_ Will pushed up onto an elbow to give him a stern look, trying to get him off the topic of sweaters. 

It worked, but Will didn’t enjoy the new topic either. 

”Why does the idea of my spending money on you make you uncomfortable?” Hannibal asked. 

Will slumped back down, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. This is what lounges like this were in therapists' and psychiatrists’ offices for. For patients to lay on and ease them into talking. It had never really worked on him. 

”I’m pretty sure you know why.” 

”Nonetheless, I would like you to articulate it for me,” said Hannibal. 

Will slowly, slowly filled his lungs with air then let it all out in quick puff. “It’s just…too much.” 

”Considering it is my money should I not be the judge of what is and is not too much?” 

”I think you have better things to do with your money than waste it on a bag for someone who won’t even appreciate it properly,” Will said. The moment the final word had slipped passed his lips, he tensed. The next second, he pulled the pillow out from under his head to cover his face with. After a moment of silence, he said, still from beneath the pillow: “Go ahead, say it, I know you’re thinking it.” 

Another pause. 

”You don’t believe you deserve it,” Hannibal said and Will grimaced. “But what does deserving or not deserving have to do with anything?” 

Will puzzled over the words. He shifted the pillow just enough to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “Go on.” 

Hannibal quirked a smile. “You made it sound as if you don’t deserve the bag because you couldn’t properly appreciate it. Have you been using it?” 

Will nodded. 

”Then you are properly appreciating it,” Hannibal said. “It is a tool meant to be used, Will. You have given it the satisfaction of fulfilling its purpose. What greater appreciation could you show it? And even beyond that, I find you wholly deserving of such gifts.” 

”Why?” Will blurted out, not thinking about it. 

”Because you’re my friend,” Hannibal answered simply. “Because I enjoy your company and your conversation and you allow me to indulge in these pleasures beyond this office.” 

”I doubt that my company and conversation are that pleasurable,” Will mumbled, grateful for the pillow as his cheeks _burned_.

”I insist that they are. Incredibly so,” said Hannibal. He tilted his head. “Do you want new sweaters, Will?” 

Will rolled his eyes. “I don’t need new sweaters, I still have enough at home.” 

”I didn’t ask if you needed them, I asked if you wanted them,” Hannibal corrected. “An entirely different question.” 

That made Will pause. His sweaters served their purpose, they were still warm, but some of them were a bit scratchy, one had a weird stain that never went away from who knew where…

He shook his head, more at himself than Hannibal if he was being honest. 

”No,” he said. “I neither need nor want new sweaters.” 

Hannibal observed him for a moment. For the millionth time in their short acquaintance, Will got the feeling that Hannibal could see more of him than Will himself. 

”What was your experience with money growing up, Will?” he asked. 

Will sat up, wanting to be on more even ground. “What was _your_ experience with money growing up?” 

Hannibal crossed his legs. “I doubt it will come as a surprise to you to hear that I was born to wealthy parents. They were careful not to spoil me, but they indulged all of my academic interests – which were my only interests, truth be told. I had few troubles.” He paused. “After they died, there were years in which I became very well acquainted with the angry echoes of hunger and the desperate grip of the cold. Those left me when my uncle found me, but the memories persist. I know myself well enough to say that my passion for the culinary arts is influenced by those lonely years.” 

Will started at Hannibal, eyes wide. Hannibal stared back. He had that same calm, observant look on his face that Will had seen a hundred times, but…there was something in his eyes. Something that had him wondering at the things Hannibal hadn’t said. 

Will look away. Licked his lips. Squeezed the pillow. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Licked his lips again. 

”My mother was born to money, but my father wasn’t,” Will began. “Her grandparents disowned her because of that and then she died birthing me. I was never constantly hungry, but I knew what it felt like. Dad was kind to me, tried his hardest to give me what I needed even though he was never quite sure how to deal with my…empathy thing. We would travel a lot so school was hard up until I doubled down to try and get into law enforcement. I remember lying about my age to run some odd jobs, contribute some cash. Finances were hard even a little after I became a cop. Then I got stabbed and my dad died and I decided the FBI would be a good idea.” 

”Your finances are much better now are they not?” said Hannibal. 

Will shrugged. “Most of it goes to my dogs.” 

”Things they need instead of things you want.” 

”I have my fishing gear,” Will said. “That’s enough.” 

”You prefer to save for a lonely day,” said Hannibal. 

”And you prefer to enjoy what you have,” Will replied. “Both understandable responses.” 

They were quiet for a bit. 

”What about other friends? Previous lovers?” Hannibal asked. “Surely they’ve given you gifts?” 

Will huffed out a laugh. “You’re underestimating the number of friends and lovers I’ve had.” 

”Perhaps you can tell me,” he prompted. 

”Define the terms ‘friend' and ‘lover',” said Will. 

”How do _you_ define those terms?” Hannibal returned. Will was tempted to roll his eyes, but he wasn’t really surprised. 

Will hummed. “There are both people whose company one enjoys but a lover is one whose company one enjoys even–slash–especially when naked.” 

Hannibal gave him a look that made it very clear he would be rolling his eyes if he didn’t consider it beneath him. But he went with it, saying: “Given that definition, how many friends and lovers have you had?” 

”Including current ones and excluding my dogs, friends would reach a grand total of two and lovers…” Will sighed. “I would say zero.” 

”Why so?” 

”Dating and sex are…complicated,” Will said. 

”Would it be wrong of me to assume it is your empathy that makes it complicated?” Hannibal queried. 

Will shook his head with a wry grin. “No, it wouldn’t be. It’s too easy to lose myself in trying to please someone. Even–slash–especially when naked.” 

”You would focus more on their wants than yours,” said Hannibal with a pointed look. 

”Do you think I have issues with wants, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked. 

”There’s nothing wrong with wanting things, Will,” Hannibal said, “or with getting those wants.” 

Will made a concentrated effort to not look too deeply into his own mind. “I know that. Some things just seem…excessive and unnecessary.” 

”Why?” 

Will didn’t answer. 

Hannibal cocked his head. “Is it unnecessary because you don’t need it?” 

”I have fishing and my motors; isn’t that enough indulged wants?” Will growled out. 

”Are those indulged wants or needed coping mechanisms?” 

Will decided not answer that either. He got to his feet and started prowling around the edges of the room, sliding only slightly in his socks. 

”You’re very determined to get me those sweaters,” he said. 

”Yes, I am,” Hannibal responded. 

”Why?” 

”I’ve told you already, you’re a very dear friend, Will,” said Hannibal. “It pleases me to give you things and it pleases me to know you’re using them. It’s not so different from offering you a meal and that has never seemed to bother you. So why does this?” 

Will stopped at the window, thinking. 

”It could be argued,” Hannibal continued, “that dinner is the bigger gift. It is the work of my own hands with ingredients that I selected myself, some of which are expensively imported from other countries or painstakingly grown in my own garden.” 

”Because dinner is for both of us,” Will said. “It’s not just for me—the bag, the scarf, the hypothetical sweaters, those would be—it's—what do you get out of it?” 

He whirled around and immediately slipped. He reached for the curtains, but then there were hands on him, pulling him close and steadying him. Before he could thank Hannibal (who he hadn’t even noticed had gotten so close), Hannibal was talking. 

”I get the pleasure of you having it.” 

Will shivered. He could feel the warmth of Hannibal’s hands even through his clothes, but it was overshadowed by the heat in Hannibal’s eyes. 

”Our hour is up,” Hannibal said. “Would you like to join me for dinner, Will?” 

Will had things to do. He needed to prepare more food for his dogs and grade some papers. He couldn’t have dinner with Hannibal tonight. 

”Yes.” 

”Let’s get you in your shoes then.” 

Will didn’t need it, but Hannibal helped him to the chaise anyway. Thankfully, he didn’t go so far as putting Will’s shoes on his feet, though Will suspected he wanted to. 

He tried not to think too much as he followed Hannibal to his home. He really should be headed to his own. Instead, he was about to eat Hannibal’s food. 

Hannibal’s earlier words echoed in his mind and his hands tightened around the wheel. 

He went back to trying not to think. 

In the foyer, as Will put up his jacket, Hannibal touched his shoulder to get his attention. 

”Could you wait for me a moment in the kitchen, please?” he asked. 

Will nodded and wandered to the kitchen. He ran his fingers over the wooden butcher block. He should probably sit down, but the only chair in the room felt so removed from everything that he never felt comfortable there. So, he just walked between the block, the marble island and the rolling steel table. It always reminded him of an operating table. 

He figured that was purpose. 

He was startled out of his musings on Hannibal’s previous life as a surgeon by the man’s return. He had something in his arms that had Will narrowing his eyes. 

”Geelong, alpaca, cotton and cashmere,” Hannibal said, laying out four sweaters in front of Will. “Which would you prefer?” 

Will crossed his arms. “Hannibal,” he said, wanting to sound stern, but his voice came out too breathy to pull it off. 

Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder again. He was standing close enough for Will to feel his breath when he spoke. 

”Indulge your wants, Will.” His hand tightened. “Indulge _me_.”

_I get the pleasure of you having it._

Will released a shaky breath. He reached out a hand that was definitely _not_ trembling, thank you very much, to feel at the sweaters. He didn’t know enough about clothes and fabric to really tell the difference. He just knew they were all incredibly soft. 

His hand moved back to the second one. It was red cable knit, obviously well cared for (as if Hannibal wouldn’t take care of his things) but with a worn-ness that Will liked. 

”This one,” he said. 

”Very good.” Hannibal stacked the three others and put them aside. “Make sure to remember to bring it with you.” 

Will stepped away from the table. “Isn’t this yours? I thought I was just picking a fabric?” 

”Did you think you were just choosing a fabric?” Hannibal asked. 

_No_ , Will thought. _I knew you were going to give me whatever I chose and that’s why I picked this one. Because it seems like the one you wear the most and I wanted to see if you’d actually give it to me._

”What did you say this was?” Will said instead. 

”Alpaca wool. Handwoven, of course,” Hannibal answered. He turned the knife box towards Will as he began gathering ingredients. “Would you like to help with dinner?” 

”Sure.” 

=¤=

It was dark. Pitch black really, but he wasn’t afraid. He felt a presence behind him. A hand on his shoulder. He felt calm. 

_”Indulge your wants, Will.”_

He plunged his hand into the darkness. Felt something warm, wet and sticky. He pulled back. Looked down. 

In his hand was a human heart, hot and still beating. 

_”Very good.”_

  


Will jerked awake, gasping. He hit the floor and heard his dogs whining. Winston nosed at him and he managed to give him a couple pats and a few choked out words of comfort. 

He couldn’t remember the dream. 

He didn’t try to. 

He got to his feet, realizing he’d fallen asleep on a chair while grading. He put everything away, relieved that he hadn’t fucked up any of his students’ papers. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be doing any work, but he knew he wouldn’t able to sleep again. 

It was 2:36 a.m. 

He slumped into his chair with a sigh. And tensed. He looked behind him at Hannibal’s (it was _his_ now, though, wasn’t it) sweater which he’d put on the back of the chair hours ago. 

_Screw it._

He took off his shirt and used it to wipe up the rest of his sweat. He tossed it aside, narrowly missing Winston who was still watching Will. 

He grabbed the sweater, hesitated, then quickly put it on. He was blushing furiously, embarrassed despite being largely alone. 

It was wonderfully soft. 

And…

He brought the collar up to his nose, flush deepening. 

It smelled like sandalwood and the herb wall of Hannibal’s dining room and something like iron. 

It smelled like _Hannibal_.

Despite the impossibility of it, he found himself falling asleep. The combination of warmth and softness and sandalwood, herbs and iron and Winston carefully placing his head on Will’s thigh had his eyes fluttering…fluttering…

Shut. 

=¤=

Will jerked awake again, this time not because of a nightmare, but because of a knocking at the door. 

He stumbled his way there, having to step over Winston. He was surprised at the light streaming through the windows and struck dumb at the time. 

9:23 a.m. 

He’d slept, uninterrupted, for almost seven whole hours. 

He actually felt _rested._

He opened the door, having to steady the man outside when the dogs rushed through. Will squinted at him, recognizing the courier’s uniform and growing suspicious at the box in his hands. 

”Sorry about that,” he said. 

”S'all good, I’ve had worse,” the courier reassured. “Are you Mr. Will Graham?” 

”Yes, I am,” Will said. He looked at the box. He had a feeling he knew who it was from and what was in it. 

The courier smiled. “If you could just sign here, please, sir.” 

Will did as told and accepted the box. 

”Have a good day, sir!” 

”You, too.” 

Will watched him head back to his car and drive off. He whistled the dogs back inside, putting the box aside to get them food and water. He even made himself breakfast: coffee, eggs and toast (the tag said the bread had expired yesterday, but it looked good enough to Will). 

He ate. Washed the dishes. Swept up the dust and dirt the dogs had tracked inside. Considered taking a shower. And ultimately decided that he didn’t wanna take the sweater off just yet. 

He put the thought aside. 

Glanced at the box. Closed his eyes. Sighed. 

All right. Fine. He’d put it off long enough. 

He removed the lid and started peeling back the layers of tissue. Unsurprisingly, he found a sweater. Surprisingly, he found another. And another. And another and another and another. 

Will shook his head, laughing. They felt the same as what he was wearing, though less worn. Handwoven alpaca wool, Hannibal had said. He grabbed his phone. 

_So I have one for every day of the week?_

It wasn’t until after he’d sent the text that he thought about Hannibal’s schedule. He could be seeing a patient. Did he see patients this early? 

His phone vibrated. 

He might have opened the message just a bit too eagerly. 

_Good morning, Will. Yes, that was the idea._

Okay, yeah, he probably should’ve greeted him first. Oops. Hannibal should be used to him, by now, though. 

_Good morning. You don’t think it’s excessive?_

_I held back from buying you a coat._

Will shook his head. Addie sniffed at one of the sweaters and he pushed it away from the edge of the table. 

_Thank you. For holding back and for the sweaters. How do I wash these, exactly?_

He picked up the sweater to smell it. It didn’t smell like Hannibal which was as expected as it was disappointing. 

He locked that thought in a back room with all the others. 

_Would you like me to direct you to a reputable cleaner? They can be machine washed if your washer has the appropriate settings, but hand wash would be best._

Will huffed. More of the dogs were gathering, curious of the package. He’d have to go take them on a walk soon. 

_I'll take those directions, but I’ll try to wash them myself._

”Stop sniffing, they’re just sweaters,” Will said, squishing Rusty’s face. Rusty proceeded to lick him. He laughed. 

Hannibal sent him the details of the cleaner along with a slightly sadder message. 

_My apologies, Will, I have a patient coming in. We will have to resume this conversation at a later time._

_Ok. Have fun with your patient._

He put the sweaters away and put his shoes on, the dogs gathering at the door in excitement. It wasn’t cold enough for a coat so he only put on the scarf and hat from Hannibal. 

He spent nearly an hour throwing sticks and running around with his dogs. Laughed when they converged on a raccoon, chasing it up a tree. It chittered angrily at the dogs. 

The dogs' attention was drawn away and he followed their gaze to a car going down the road. A familiar car. 

His dogs rushed over, Will following at a more sedate pace. Alana opened the door to a swarm of canines and she greeted them affectionately, throwing Will a smile. 

Eventually, Will whistled and threw a stick to get them off her. Winston chose to sit at his feet, panting. 

”Morning,” Will greeted. 

”Good morning. You look good,” Alana said. 

”I’ll try not to be too offended at the surprise in your voice,” said Will. 

”That’s not what I meant.” 

”I know,” Will said. “I got seven hours of sleep and breakfast that’s not just coffee. Day’s just starting but I’m pretty hopeful its gonna go well.” 

”That’s great,” Alana said and sounded like she really meant it. “Hannibal’s been helping you?” 

Will was glad he'd been running around and the flush on his cheeks could be written off as exertion. 

”Yeah,” he answered. He cleared his throat. “Would you like a drink? I don’t have to be anywhere until two.” 

”I brought food actually,” said Alana. “Take out from a Thai place Hannibal and I went to a couple weeks ago. 

Of _course_ it was Thai. 

”Sure,” he said. “Let me just get the dogs inside.” 

Alana went ahead while Will rounded up his dogs and made sure they hadn’t managed to injure themselves. Inside the house, he poured them all out some water, getting a pitcher for him and Alana, too. He started helping her with the boxes. 

”Nice sweater. I think Hannibal has one like it,” Alana said. She kept talking before Will could speak. “He said it was one of his favorites.” 

Will made sure to keep moving, keep opening boxes, to not freeze or tense or otherwise give any indication that what she’d just said had his heart speeding in his chest. 

”Really?” he said. 

He must’ve been a better actor than he thought because she didn’t seem suspicious in the least. 

”He said it was one of the first things he bought when he started making his own money instead of living off his family,” she explained. “If I remember correctly.” 

Will swallowed.

A favorite. And he'd given it to Will.

They had to move on from this topic. Or else he might actually lose his mind. 

”I can’t remember the first thing I bought with my own money,” he said, only partially lying. 

”My first non-essential purchase was a thirty dollar bottle of wine instead of my usual ten dollar one,” said Alana. 

”Was it worth it?” he asked. 

She tossed him a grin. “I wouldn’t know. My then roommate stole it before I could get a sip.” 

They had a surprisingly easy conversation over the delicious meal. It was Hannibal approved after all, so Will couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised at how good it was. Buster and Marie came to beg for scraps as they always did. Will gave in to their pleading eyes, as _he_ always did. 

After the boxes had been disposed of and the leftovers put away (Will insisting Alana take some), they sat in the front room with mugs of coffee. Rusty was warming Alana's feet. 

They were silent for a while, both nursing their drinks. Will still felt wonderfully content. But he slowly became aware of a nervousness coming from Alana. He puzzled over the reason for a minute, then sighed. 

”Just spit it out,” he said, not unkindly. 

She gave him an apologetic smile. “It can wait until tomorrow, I don’t wanna ruin the good day you’re having.” 

”I’d rather know it now,” he insisted. 

It was her turn to sigh. “I have some news from Jack.” 

He frowned. “Does he have a case for me?” 

”No, we both know if he did, you’d already be at the crime scene,” she said with obvious disapproval. 

”What is it, then?” he asked. 

”A different kind of horror for you: social interaction.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What hannigram sugar daddy au is complete without some suits?  
> (I know very little about the world, so forgive any inaccuracies please thanks)  
> Tell me if you see any mistakes and I hope you enjoy!!

It was 3:46 p.m. on a Saturday and Will Graham had more fish than he’d planned on catching.

_Consciously_ planned on catching. 

He blamed lack of sleep. Hannibal’s scent had faded from the sweater and the nightmares had started back up. 

Not that there was any correlation between the two things. 

He rubbed his face and crouched down to pet Winston who was standing in the kitchen with him. 

”This is kinda stupid, huh?” he said. And it really kind of was. He’d had a set goal when he’d headed out. But he’d stayed out longer than intended, partly because he’d needed to recover from last night’s dreams and partly because…

He sighed. 

”Watch me get stupider, though,” he told Winston and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was an older model, but he’d never felt the need to replace it. Even with how laggy it had gotten. 

He called this time instead of texting. 

_”Good afternoon, Will.”_

Winston barked excitedly, nearly pushing the phone out of Will’s hand when he nosed at it. Will laughed, pushing Winston away as he stood up. 

”Sorry,” he said into the phone. “I think my dogs miss you.” 

_”I’ll have to visit them soon then,”_ Hannibal said. _”How are you?”_

”Been better, been worse,” he answered. “That’s not why I called, though.” 

_”Why did you?”_

Will chewed on his lip. He’d already called. He had to go through with it. 

”I was fishing,” he began, “and I caught more than my fridge can handle. Don’t suppose you’re interested?” 

Hannibal was silent for so long that Will seriously began to doubt how good an idea this was. 

”Dr. Lecter?” 

_”My day has been rather trying,”_ said Hannibal. _”I would greatly enjoy ending it through a meal with you over meat you provided.”_

Oh. If Will was being completely honest, he’d planned to just give him the fish and run, but…

Hannibal Lecter of the impeccable control was letting him hear just a touch of tiredness in his voice and Will found it impossible to say no. 

”I’ll be there in an hour and a half then.” 

  


A little over two hours later and Will was seated across from Hannibal with a plate of fried fish and a salad of wild greens and cranberries. He’d made sure to wear one of the sweaters Hannibal sent – the pale blue one to go with the navy of the scarf and hat. 

The unhidden pleasure in Hannibal’s eyes when he’d opened the door had had Will swallowing. 

Despite the rocky start to the day, he was certain this Saturday was going to be mountains better than the next. 

”Is the meal not to your satisfaction?” 

Will looked up from the plate he’d been unknowingly frowning at and hurried to get words out of his mouth; “No–I mean–it–I–sorry, wait, um,” he took a breath. “Its wonderful, as always, I just remembered something unpleasant.” He bit a piece of fish off his fork as if to prove his point, relieved when a pleased light returned to Hannibal’s eyes. 

”Would you be willing to tell me?” Hannibal asked. 

Will shrugged, swallowing before speaking. “I’ve been invited to some sort FBI event and I’m not allowed to reject it. 

”And you’re not looking forward to it,” Hannibal assumed. 

”Nope,” Will replied. “Not looking forward to meeting people; not looking forward to people trying to pick my brain; not looking forward to having to dig my ‘good suit’ out of whatever box I shoved it into when I moved here—I am, however, looking forward to the open bar, that sounds very enjoyable.” 

”Hopefully, you wont enjoy it too much,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ll take a cab if one’s willing to take me so far,” he promised. “Maybe I’ll call you.” 

”That would be very reassuring.” Hannibal swirled his wine around his glass. “Do you have plans tomorrow, Will?” 

Will blinked at the subject change. “I have to write up some tests, but it’s not a pressing issue. Why?” 

”You mentioned needing a suit.” 

Will slowly put his fork down. “No, I mentioned needing to _look_ for my suit.” 

”If it has been in a box since you moved here, I doubt it will be any good,” Hannibal said. 

”Then, I’ll go out and rent a suit or something,” Will said. 

”Every man should own at least one good suit, Will,” Hannibal insisted. 

”You’re not buying me a suit, Hannibal,” Will insisted right back. 

”Why not?” 

”Because I don’t need you to!” 

”But do you want me to?” 

Will pursed his lips. He thought of it. Thought of meeting with Hannibal, of letting him drag Will around wherever he deemed necessary for a good suit. It would likely take a while. They could eat together. They could spend _hours_ together. Will could wear something soft and clean and tailored to fit him instead of something scratchy and ill-fitting and covered in fluids that didn’t bear thinking about. 

He’d been silent too long. 

Hannibal smiled. 

”Can you meet me here at 11 a.m.?” he asked. “I would like to feed you lunch first.” 

Will just nodded. 

”Finish your food, Will,” Hannibal instructed. “Tell me a story about a previous fishing trip.” 

Will took a thoughtful bite of his salad, then started telling Hannibal about one of his first fishing trips as a child. He’d been tugged out of the boat by a particularly rowdy fish and his father had immediately jumped after him. After getting back on the boat he’d had his first cup of hot chocolate. He confessed that it was a comfort drink he rarely indulged in. 

He helped Hannibal with the dishes as he always insisted on doing. Hannibal had to help him fold up his sleeves since they just kept sliding down whenever he pushed them up. 

At the door, after they’d said their goodbyes and Will turned to head for his car, he found himself being stilled. Shivers raced up his spine as Hannibal placed a hand on his hip and stepped close enough for Will to feel his heat all along his back. 

”Did you notice,” Hannibal whispered, “that you immediately assumed I would be buying the suits for you instead of taking you to buy them for yourself?” 

He allowed a moment for the words to sink in—then he was gone, the door clicking shut. 

Will spun around, heart threatening to jump out of his chest, gasping like he’d run miles. The hip Hannibal touched _burned._

Fuck, he really had done that, hadn’t he? Oh, God. 

Wait. 

No. 

No, he hadn’t. 

It wasn’t some needy assumption, it was just an acknowledgement of a pattern Hannibal was establishing. The pattern being Hannibal buying Will what he pleased. It was a valid, understandable conclusion to reach. 

What was Hannibal trying to imply, anyway? That his assump– _logical conclusion_ was some kind of Fruedian slip and Will actually deep down wanted Hannibal to buy him expensive gifts as if he thought Will worth such things? 

Ridiculous. Even for Hannibal. 

It was just a logical conclusion. 

That’s all it was. 

He stumbled to his car. He hoped he could concentrate long enough to reach home without crashing. 

  


=¤=

Will really, really, _really_ wished he could’ve been surprised when he woke up in the middle of the night with a hard on. 

At least it wasn’t a nightmare. 

  


=¤=

Will didn’t put up a fight when Hannibal asked him to ride with him. It would’ve been silly to follow him around in his own car when they were going to the same place. 

Hannibal pulled up to a boutique taking up the first two floors of a three-story brownstone. He led Will up to the door with a hand on his back that Will felt absurdly _aware_ of even through three layers of clothes. 

He was, of course, wearing one of the sweaters. A pale gray one with white details. 

A bell rung above the door as they entered a small reception area in earthy browns and greens. The young woman behind the desk looked up from a textbook with a bright smile. 

”Good afternoon, Dr. Lecter,” she greeted. “May I take your coat?” 

”Good afternoon, Christina,” said Hannibal. “Studying hard, I see.” 

”We've got tests coming up,” Christina said. She took Hannibal’s coat and glanced curiously at Will. “Good afternoon.” 

”Afternoon,” Will replied. Hannibal started helping him with his jacket and Will let him. 

”This is Will Graham, he’s the one being fitted today,” said Hannibal, passing along Will’s jacket. 

”Christina Knott,” she said. “Mr. Costa’s already in Room 1. Would either of you gentlemen like drinks?” 

Hannibal looked to Will. 

”If I’m gonna be completely honest,” Will said, “I’m gonna need alcohol to get through this.” 

”We have an extensive wet bar and wine menu. I can also make a few cocktails,” said Christina. 

”Just whiskey,” Will replied. He was starting to get a little overwhelmed and things hadn’t even started yet. 

”I’ll have an Old Fashioned. You’ve become very good at it,” Hannibal said. His hand had returned to Will's back, no doubt seeing his discomfort. 

”Thank you,” Christina said, delighted. “I’ll have the drinks delivered to Room 1 as soon as I can.” 

”Thank you, Christina.” 

”You’re very welcome, Dr. Lecter.”

Will was led to a doorway by the desk which led to a short hallway with a staircase. They found a door upstairs with a golden ‘1’ on it. Hannibal held it open for Will to go through first. 

It was a pretty big room in the same earthy colors as downstairs, the lighting dim enough to seem intimate while still being bright enough to see everything. To the left was a seating area around a small raised platform connected to a doorway blocked off with a curtain. There were racks of shirts and jackets and pants and a wall mounted thing with a bunch of cubbyholes for rolled up ties. 

Standing by the ties was a silver haired man with deep laugh lines and a suit that wouldn’t look out of place on Hannibal. 

He didn’t care if Hannibal was paying for everything, he was _not_ wearing paisley. 

Next to the man was another boy closer to Christina’s age then anyone else’s. He had dyed blond hair and an eyebrow piercing. In his arms was albino Sphynx cat which quickly jumped down and ran to Hannibal with a loud meow. 

”Good afternoon, Miss Capricia,” Hannibal said, crouching down just enough to slip her a treat and give her a quick pat. 

”Are you trying to bribe everyone’s pets?” Will asked. 

”What ever are you talking about, Will?” He then turned his attention to the approaching silver haired man. “Adelmo,” he said, followed by a quick exchange in Italian. Will would’ve felt awkward if the cat hadn’t distracted him. Her wrinkles were cute. 

”Will,” Hannibal said. “Allow me to introduce you to Signor Adelmo Costa, he and his wife have been making my suits since I arrived in Baltimore. Adelmo, this is my dear friend Will Graham.” 

”Lovely to meet you, please call me Adelmo,” he said, smiling wide as he shook Will’s hand. “This is my assistant for the day, Charles.” 

”Call me Will.” 

”Shall we begin?” Adelmo said with a clap of his hands. “If you could remove you sweater for better measurements that would be wonderful.” 

Will did as told, passing it off to Hannibal and leaving him in just his thin undershirt. It was warm enough in the room that it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

He got up on the platform as Hannibal took a seat, eyes on Will while Charles laid out fabric swatches on a low table in front of him. Will ignored him, focused on following Adelmo's instructions on how to position himself. He took more measurements than Will though necessary, but he wasn’t the master tailor so he decided not to question it. 

As Adelmo crouched to begin lower body measurements, Christina appeared with their drinks. Will accepted his whiskey with a quick thank you. 

”Will,” Hannibal called once Christina had gone. “Did you have any particular patterns in mind for your suits?” 

Will paused, glass inches away from his lips. “Sorry, were talking plurals here? I recall you saying something about _one_ good suit.” 

Hannibal smiled. “I recall saying something about _at least_ one good suit.” 

”Hannibal has put in an order for five suits for you,” Adelmo said. 

”Of course he has,” said Will and took a fortifying swing of his drink before meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “As much as I don’t hate you, I’d prefer not to walk around looking like I raided your closet. 

That first sweater didn’t count. 

”Plaid would suit you,” Adelmo enticed. 

”A fainter pattern, perhaps, to suit your tastes?” said Hannibal, holding up a piece of gray fabric patterned in a lighter gray. 

Will sighed as discreetly as possible. “I will accept one plaid suit.” 

”Thank you.” Hannibal made no effort to hide his delight. “Then a pinstripe and three solids, if it pleases you.” 

”Sounds good,” Will said. “Sorry if it’s not as adventurous as you expected from a friend of Hannibal’s.” 

Adelmo gave a fake wistful sigh, eyes still crinkled from his smile. “I have long ago resigned myself to the fact that, design wise, my wife will be having the most fun.” His smile dimmed. “Usually.” 

”Is Giulia not well?” Hannibal asked. 

Adelmo jotted something down in his little leather notebook. “She is healthy and whole, taking a break from servicing clients.” 

”May I ask?” 

”I do love to gossip,” Adelmo mused. “But I will not tell you any names.” 

”Of course,” Hannibal said. To look at him, you’d only think him politely interested, but Will could see his excitement. Hannibal liked knowing things, hoarding stories and knowledge like a dragon with his gold. 

”Last week a young woman stormed in, all in a huff regarding a dress Giulia had made her,” Adelmo began, returning to measuring. “Apparently her dress had shrunk in the wash and she accused us of conspiring with her ‘arch nemesis’ to ruin her chances with a boy she liked. We tried to explain that the silk and taffeta dress had very clearly come with a dry clean only label, but she would hear none of it. She slapped my Giulia! Charles had to shove her out the door to get her to leave.” 

”I’ll confess to not being as gentle as I could’ve been when getting her out,” Charles said while switching fabric swatches out for different ones. “Mrs. Costa was bleeding.” 

”The woman’s nails had caught on Giulia's cheek,” Adelmo explained. “She is still as beautiful as ever, of course, but it has greatly distressed her and so she is taking a short break. I offered a vacation to Brazil and she threatened to burn all my ties.” 

”It’s good to hear she’s not _too_ distressed,” Hannibal said warmly, but his displeasure at the unknown woman was obvious to Will. “What a singularly rude woman. Are you quite certain you won’t tell me her name? I would hate to mistakenly invite all of you to the same dinner party.” 

”I think that the chances of that are very low,” said Adelmo. “Her rudeness was evident from her first appointment. I doubt you would allow her anywhere near your table.” 

”You would be surprised at the number of rude individuals I’ve served at my table,” Hannibal said, an amused light in his eye like he was laughing at a joke only he knew. 

Will wondered what he thought was so funny. 

”I doubt you let them linger long,” said Adelmo. 

”They’ve always disappeared rather quickly.” Hannibal seemed even more amused. Will tilted his head. Hannibal met his eyes and the unknown amusement turned into amusement at Will’s attempts to read him. 

Will looked away, flushing. 

”Have you had the pleasure of going to one of Hannibal’s dinner parties?” Adelmo asked Will. 

Will shook his head. “No and to be honest, I don’t really want to. I have had dinner with him, though.” 

”I must have you and Giulia over for dinner soon,” said Hannibal. “To offer some comfort after such dreadfulness.” 

”Giulia will insist she needs no such comforts, but neither of us would ever turn down an invitation from you, Hannibal,” said Adelmo. 

”I will contact you once I have a proper menu,” Hannibal said with a pleased nod. His eyes went to Will. “Perhaps Will can join us.” 

Will raised a brow. “Maybe if my job will let me.” 

Hannibal’s lips twitched into a small smile like it was already a done deal. He gestured to the fabric swatches Charles had just finished laying out: all with a subtle plaid pattern. “Do any of these seem pleasing to you?” 

The rest of the appointment passed in a way that felt too fast and too slow all at once. He left most of the choices to Hannibal, he checked out when he and Adelmo started talking about colors with occasional input from Charles. He only checked back in to veto certain colors and once when Hannibal stood behind him to hold up some shirts as they stood in front of a mirror. 

His warmth through the thin undershirt had sent Will’s brain spiraling. 

In the end, they somehow managed to spend two hours at the tailor’s and Will had to return in a couple hour as well as on Wednesday. Adlemo would be focusing on one suit for now since Will needed one for the FBI event and there wasn’t a lot of time before. 

Will went for the plaid suit for the event. For Hannibal, even though he wouldn’t see it. 

Christ, he went from having one moth eaten suit (he’d found it last night) to five high quality bespoke ones. 

He told himself he’d be more careful about talking about wants around Hannibal. 

(He suspected he wouldn’t.) 

”Is this really necessary?” Will asked as they exited the boutique only to head for some sort of accessory store. 

”Your shirts have French cuffs, Will, of course cufflinks are necessary,” said Hannibal. “I will limit myself to three.” 

”You will limit yourself to one,” said Will. They entered the brightly lit store. Display counters lined three sides of the room with another display case in the center. 

Hannibal’s lip curled in displeasure, but he conceded. “Very well.” 

A woman in a distressingly bright orange suit approached them with a smile. “Hannibal, it’s been too long.” 

”My apologies, Acelin,” Hannibal said, kissing the air by her cheeks. 

Will internally shook his head. Was Hannibal friends with everyone he bought stuff from? He probably was. He probably had the personal numbers of the farmers he got his fresh produce from. His butcher almost definitely. 

”What brings you to me today?” she asked. 

”Only cufflinks for my friend Will Graham,” Hannibal answered. “Will, this is Acelin Marley, the owner of this fine establishment.” 

”I source my wares from several different companies and independent makers,” said Acelin. “You’ve arrived at a wonderful time, I just received a new batch from a very promising independent.” 

”We would love to see them,” said Hannibal. 

She went behind the counters, Will and Hannibal following on the other side. She pulled a compartmented box out from under the glass. All but one of the fifteen compartments had a pair of cufflinks in them. 

”Designed and made by Lazarus Fitz, each is one of a kind,” Acelin introduced. “They’re all toggle backs made of platinum with a volcanic rock and mother of pearl inlay inspired by his recent trip to Hawaii.” 

”Does anything catch your eye?” Hannibal asked, pulling Will closer to the box with a hand on his hip. He lingered a moment before removing it. 

Will ran a quick eye over everything, wanting to just choose one and be done with it. His attention caught on a pair near the edge. They were shaped like a heterocercal caudal fin, patterned with volcanic rock and filled in with mother of pearl. 

He pointed. “That one.” 

”A fine choice,” said Hannibal while Acelin lifted the cufflinks out of their compartment. 

”Should I box these up or would you like to look around some more?” 

Will shook his head. 

”That will be all for today, I think,” said Hannibal. 

Acelin excused herself to a back room and Hannibal turned to Will. “Are you quite certain you won’t allow me to purchase you anything else from here?” 

Will ignored the words ‘from here’. 

”I’m sure,” he said. 

”You won’t even look around?” 

Will kept his glare up for another few seconds, then sighed. Arguing would be pointless and what was the harm in looking? 

Plenty, as he was about to find out. 

He walked around, Hannibal behind him watching closely and radiating satisfaction. 

He passed more cufflinks, belt buckles, bracelets, necklaces, earrings and other piercings. He internally shook his head again upon confirming that, yes, everything was so expensive that nothing had a price tag. 

Christ. 

He hesitated by one of the window displays for the barest flicker of a moment, but Hannibal still noticed. Placing a hand on Will’s shoulder to stop him, he asked: “What is it?” 

Will glanced back at the display; at the various cufflinks and bangles connected by thin chains to rings and shrugged. 

”They just caught my eye.” 

Hannibal leaned closer to the display. There were people passing by outside and despite them not looking in, Will felt watched. 

”They are very nicely made.” He looked at Will. “But that is not, I think, why you hesitated.” 

Will licked his lips. Crossed his arms. Looked down at his shoes. 

Hannibal just waited. 

”Dad didn’t really have a lot of pictures of my mom,” Will said. “But he had this one clipping from the society pages of a newspaper…it was during a party or something, she was wearing a long dress and jewelry that had lots of little chains.” 

For a moment, Hannibal didn’t say anything. Then, he straightened up and turned to the back of the room where Acelin had just returned. 

”My apologies, Acelin, could you bring out your ring measuring set, please?” 

”It’ll be just a second,” she said, obviously delighted at them spending more money. 

Once she’d disappeared again, Will grabbed Hannibal’s arm. 

”I never even met her, I have no memory of her whatsoever, it’s not important, Hannibal, it doesn’t matter,” Will insisted. 

”It obviously does.” Hannibal cocked his head. “Tell me, as a child, did you ever wonder what it would be like to grow up in your mother’s household?” 

Will tightened his grip. “This isn’t the place to be discussing things like that, _Dr. Lecter._ You’re not buying me…whatever you’re thinking of buying me.” 

Hannibal gave a quiet sigh like _Will_ was the one being ridiculous. “You know, Will, you worry too much. You would be much more comfortable if you relax with yourself.” He put his hand over Will’s. “I confess my reasons for doing this are largely selfish. It pleases me to think of you having these things. It pleases me to know _I_ am the one to give them to you. If you won’t indulge yourself, won’t you indulge me?” 

Will swallowed. The hand over his stroked his knuckles and he had to tear his eyes away from Hannibal’s burning into him, focusing instead on the knot of Hannibal’s tie. 

”Okay,” Will said, voice hoarse. 

A slow smile spread across Hannibal’s face, allowing a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth. He squeezed Will’s hand then touched his cheek, little finger curled under Will’s jaw. 

Breathing became even harder than it already was. He kept his eyes on the tie, certain than Hannibal could feel his racing pulse against his fingers. 

Acelin returned. 

Hannibal slowly let go of him. 

Will didn’t. Instead, he used his grip on Hannibal’s arm to pull him along as he went to Acelin for he didn’t really know anymore. 

Hannibal took control of everything as all of Will’s fingers were measured. There was mention of white gold and sapphires vs blue topaz. Will just nodded whenever prompted. 

The cufflinks and rings would take two weeks to be finished. They could be picked up next, next Tuesday. 

Hannibal paid for everything with a black card, then they were on their way out, the bag with the box containing the cufflinks in Hannibal’s grip. 

”Shoes and an overcoat next,” Hannibal said, holding out a hand. 

_In for a penny, and all that._

Will slipped his hand into Hannibal’s. “Okay.” 

”Thank you, darling.” 

_Oh, God._

They went a couple of stores over for the coat and shoes, holding hands the whole way. The shop was run by a pair of red headed fraternal twins; the woman, Flynn, covered the shoes and the man, Cass, covered the coats. 

The shoes were quick, classic black Oxfords. The coat took a bit longer but eventually Will chose a dark gray, single breast, wool overcoat coming down to just below his knees. Will agreed easily to the addition of fleece lined leather gloves and five pairs of socks. Hannibal carried everything. 

Hannibal tried to get him to agree to a new watch, but Will managed to distract him from that by saying he was hungry. Hannibal immediately switched directions to a little café. Will wasted enough time there picking at several pastries and sipping at his coffee that they had to go back to Adelmo’s right afterward, not allowing Hannibal time to get him a watch. 

He sighed when Hannibal said he’d just buy him one at a later date. 

They went back to Adelmo who quickly got Will into the patchwork suit, adjusting the fit by ripping stitches and pinning fabric, making marks with tailor’s chalk and asking questions about how it felt. 

After some time, he finished and they left with a quick pat on Capricia's head, a box of shirts and ties in Hannibal’s arms. He refused to let Will carry anything. 

”Shall we have dinner?” Hannibal asked. 

”Are you cooking or are we going somewhere?” Will said. 

Hannibal looked up from carefully putting their (his) purchases in the backseat of the Bentley. “Do you have a preference?” 

Will fiddled with his sleeves. He met Hannibal’s eyes. “Let’s go somewhere. Somewhere you like.” 

”I know just the place.” 

Twenty-five minutes later they were seated in a private room of a restaurant whose name Will refused to even attempt to pronounce. It was formal dining and Will was sure he was only allowed in because he was with Hannibal. Who apparently knew the owner and several of the chefs which was why he got away with coming in without a reservation accompanied by someone with a hole in their baggy jeans. 

He left the menu up to Hannibal and wasn’t disappointed. Hannibal described each dish after the server left. Restaurants were usually hard for Will, too many people feeling too many things crowding into his head, but in a private room with Hannibal holding all his attention, he could actually enjoy himself. 

At some point Hannibal got him laughing at a ridiculous story from his surgeon days that he would’ve accused him of making up if he didn’t know him. A server came in at that time with their dessert and Will barely noticed her. 

They left the restaurant, warm and full, Will’s hand once again in Hannibal’s. The drive back was spent in pleasant conversation, soft orchestral music playing from the speakers. 

”I don’t suppose I could entice you to a coffee?” Hannibal asked as the car came to a stop. 

Will shook his head. “I should get back to my dogs.” 

Hannibal conceded with a nod. “Of course. Allow me to help you with the bags.” 

He followed Hannibal out with a smile. “I’m assuming that means you’re gonna carry everything to my car.” 

”You know me well.” 

Will didn’t really think so, but he just shook his head. He went to his car, opening the door to the front seat for Hannibal. He put everything in, then stepped back to let Will close the door. 

”I’ll see you again soon,” Will said, sounding more like a question. 

”My door is always open to you, Will,” said Hannibal. 

Will was grateful for the darkness as a blush colored his cheeks. “You said…that you—enjoy my company, do you—"

Hannibal stopped him with a hand on his chin, tilting his face up. “You need not feel the need to repay me, Will. You have spent hours with me today and that pleasure is infinitely more valuable to me than the amount I’ve spent.” 

God, he meant that. Hannibal had meant every word that had just passed his lips and it made Will’s mouth go dry. 

”And how much is that?” Will asked. 

”Do you really wish to know?” 

”I’m not sure,” Will admitted. 

”A suit from Adelmo begins at $7000,” said Hannibal. 

Will felt lightheaded. “No, I don’t think I want to know actually.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “I’ve already told you not to worry about it, Will. If you want to do something for me, then get home safely and call me when you do. I’d like to bid you good night.” 

”Okay.” 

”Good.” He patted Will’s hip. “Go on.” 

Will nodded. Following orders was easy. He went to the other side of the car to get in. Hannibal watched him leave. When Will glanced in the rearview mirror before turning, he was still there. 

Will drove more carefully than he could remember in recent memory. It took him a bit longer than usual to get home. 

He greeted and let the dogs out before bringing the shopping in so they wouldn’t make him drop anything. He didn’t call Hannibal just yet. 

Putting everything away was an experience. He didn’t think he had this much stuff even when coming home with groceries. He hung up the shirts and coat with care; put the shoes on a high shelf; made room in a drawer for the socks and ties and sat on his bed with the box holding the cufflinks. 

His dogs came over, wondering if there were treats in the box and he let them sniff it, smiling. It really was kind of pretty. 

He put the cufflinks in his dresser drawer and changed into his version of sleepwear, which was currently boxers and one of Hannibal’s…one of _his_ sweaters. He grabbed his phone. 

_”Thank you for calling, Will.”_

”Well, you wanted me to,” Will said, petting Daisy when she jumped up onto the bed next to him. 

_”I trust your trip home was uneventful,”_ said Hannibal. 

”There was one guy speeding in what I suspect was his father’s stolen Porsche, but other than that, nothing to report,” said Will.

_”How could you tell it was stolen from his father?”_ Hannibal asked. 

Will lay down. “Uh, the fact that some kid stuck his head out the window and told me to ‘stop clogging up the road, old man’.” 

He could just imagine the displeased look on Hannibal’s face. _”How rude. Do you remember the license plate?”_

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I’m not planning on doing anything about it because if they haven’t been caught already they will be.” 

_”Is that really the attitude an enforcer of the law should have?”_

”My badge is temporary.” 

Hannibal’s low laugh over the phone had him biting his tongue. He abruptly wished his phone was better quality just so he could hear him better. 

_”Are you ready for bed, Will?”_

Screw the new phone, he wanted to break this one so he didn’t have to deal with this anymore. 

”Yeah,” he said. “Dogs are fine, I’m in pajamas—I’ll take a shower in the morning, I’m too tired.” 

_”Do you have an early class?”_

”At 9, yes,” Will answered. 

_”You should be sleeping, then, it’s getting late.”_

Will looked at the clock on his nightstand: 10:58 p.m. “Oh. Do _you_ have any early morning appointments?” 

_”Not as early as you, it seems."_

”But you should go to sleep, too, considering how early you probably have to get up to make your breakfast,” said Will. 

_”I fear the answer to this question, but what do you do for breakfast?”_

Will smiled, fighting back a yawn. “Coffee: always, granola bars: usually and an egg McMuffin if I’m really hungry.” 

_”A what?”_

”Greasy fast food.” He laughed at Hannibal’s responding sigh. 

_”Would it be too much to ask you to make yourself a proper breakfast tomorrow?”_

”For you? Okay.” 

A pause. 

_”Thank you, darling.”_

Will's eyes shook as he spoke. “You’re welcome.” 

_”I should let you sleep.”_

”Okay.” 

_”Good night, Will.”_

”Good night, Hannibal.”

Will waited for him to hang up, not wanting to do it. Instead, Hannibal spoke: _”Will?”_

”Yes?” 

_”If you have nightmares, could you call me?”_

”What. I don’t wanna bother you.” 

_”You wouldn’t be bothering me, Will. I’m your friend and I would like to help you when you are troubled. It would make me quite happy if you could depend on me this way.”_

Will chewed on his lip, fingers threading through Daisy's fur. “All right. I could do that.” 

_”You honor me.”_

He shook his head at Hannibal’s…Hannibal-ness. “You’re ridiculous. Are we gonna have to say good night again?” 

Hannibal chuckled. _”I believe we must.”_

Will smiled. “Good night, Hannibal.” 

_”Good night, my dear. Sweet dreams.”_ He hung up. 

Oh, boy. Will took it all back, he was good with his current phone. He was absolutely sure that if he'd heard that on a better speaker, he would’ve spontaneously combusted. 

  


=¤=

For the second night in a row, Will woke up wet and sticky and _not_ because of a nightmare. 

He shook his head as he got up. 

He was too old for this. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason this WASN'T tagged as slow burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you see any mistakes and I hope you enjoy reading!!

Will looked at himself in the old full length mirror in the upstairs bathroom and…

He huffed. 

It was a perfect fit, of course. Like a second skin but never pulling or tugging on his body no matter how he moved. He’d experimentally done a couple squats and the suit just flowed with him. 

It also hugged his ass like a lover’s caress but he was trying not to think about that or else he’d start feeling embarrassed. 

His tie was crooked. He’d tried to fix it three times now, but it refused to sit straight. He reached up to try again and flushed as the light caught on his wrists. 

He hated to think it, but he looked expensive. 

It was obvious in every stitch of clothing, in the shine of his shoes and the glint of his cufflinks. He doubted that anyone would believe he’d bought any of this himself. On a teacher’s salary at that. 

The flush deepened., creeping down his neck. With the exception of his underwear and his watch, everything on him had been from Hannibal. 

The suit was a deep black, the plaid pattern done in faintly glittering black thread. When viewed from close enough and the light hit it just right, you could see the pattern, but otherwise it seemed like a normal (if obviously tailored) black suit. The blue gray tie and pocket square were nice touches that matched the shimmer of the mother of pearl cufflinks nicely. 

The pocket squares (yes, plural) had been a surprise during Tuesday's appointment. Hannibal had simply smiled when Will called him ridiculous. They’d spent half an hour with Hannibal teaching Will how to properly fold and place them in a suit pocket. He’d made Will wear his jacket to practice. It was a bit too big on account of it being tailored to first Hannibal who was a bit taller and broader in the shoulders. 

Hannibal’s scent had transferred just a little from his jacket to Will’s shirt. He’d spilled some ink on the sleeves earlier in the day, but instead of taking it off, he’d slept in it. 

He shook the memory off. He ran his eyes over his reflection one last time, making sure everything was as it should be, writing his hair off as pointless to mess with. 

He went downstairs and spun in front of his dogs. “What do we think?” 

After a moment, Winston barked and Rusty sniffed at his leg. Will nodded. “Great, we all agree that this is insane.” 

He put on the coat and gloves then left with a last goodbye to his dogs. The whole drive to the venue, his nervousness grew more and more. He didn’t even really know what this party was about. As best he understood, it was just a bunch of higher ups jerking each other off and since he’d helped close some high profile cases, he was required to be there. 

He could still turn around, tell Jack he’d caught some kind of disease. He could probably get Hannibal to back him up on that. Tell him that Will would let him buy a dozen watches for him in exchange for one little lie. 

He wouldn’t actually do that. But the thought managed to shake off his anxiety as he pondered the possibility. 

Hannibal managed to occupy his thoughts for the rest of the drive. 

Once at the fancy hotel, he tucked his gloves into his coat pocket and left the coat with one of the staff. He went to the event hall which had a stage along the back wall, a well stocked bar in a near corner and round tables spaced around the middle of the room. 

There was already a lot of people, which Will had planned: arrive late, leave early, speak to as few people as possible. 

_Let’s go._

He went to get a whiskey, looking around the room for someone he could hide behind. Alana had promised him she’d be there. Team Sassy Science had been invited as well and Beverly said she’d be attending with her girlfriend. 

He lingered at the bar for a few seconds, whiskey in hand, avoiding all the eyes that tried to meet his. Finally, he spotted Alana in a green dress and speed walked to her, dodging around people. 

He reached her just as she finished her conversation with a balding man and she smiled, looking surprised, when she saw him. 

”Will, you look great,” said Alana. 

”Thanks, you, too,” he said, meaning it. The dress hugged her gently and brought out her eyes, her hair styled away from her face but flowing freely down her back, a glittering clip on one side of her head. 

”Thank you,” she said. “I notice you’re late.” 

”I’m here, though,” he said. “I actually considered faking the flu.” 

”And how were you gonna get away with that, exactly?” she asked. 

”I think I could’ve gotten Hannibal on board,” Will said. 

She laughed. “I doubt that would’ve worked, seeing as he’s here.” 

Will’s heart skipped a beat. “He is?” 

”He was a late invite, apparently, so I’m not surprised you didn’t know,” said Alana. “I talked to him a little while ago and he helped me get away from Chilton.” 

Will made a face. “Think they’re still talking?” 

”I don’t know,” Alana said. “Wanna go look for him?” 

”Sure. Let’s hurry, I think Jack just spotted me.” 

Alana laughed again and they wandered the room. At one point they were stopped, thankfully by a woman interested only in Alana. As they spoke, Will kept searching and found Hannibal when a stocky man moved to the side. 

_Oh, boy._

It wasn’t like he looked very different from how he usually did. He was wearing a gray three-piece with a shimmering lighter gray pinstripe and a black tie with a gold paisley pattern, his perfectly folded and placed pocket square was a solid black and he had a glass of wine in one hand. 

As if he could feel Will’s eyes on him, he looked to the side of the person speaking to him and their eyes met. 

Then his gaze was moving down Will’s body in a slow, leisurely drag as if he was studying him, committing every inch to memory, proprietary but admiring…

Will’s heart decided to try for Olympic gymnast. 

Hannibal excused himself from his conversation partner and made his way over. Will forcibly looked away from him, turning to Alana who was just finishing up with the woman. 

He was starting to regret looking for Hannibal. 

”Will.” 

He took a deep breath. Looked up. He couldn’t quite identify the look in those maroon eyes, but it sent a shiver down Will's spine. “Hannibal.” 

”We were just looking for you,” said Alana. “There was something I wanted to ask you two.” 

Will glanced at her, his flight response triggered by the mischief on her face. 

"Can either of you tell me where Will got his suit?” 

Will’s face flamed. He hid behind his whiskey. 

”He mentioned needing a suit,” said Hannibal. 

”I mentioned needing to _look_ for a suit that I already had,” Will corrected. 

”Did you find it?” Hannibal asked. 

Will glared then sighed. “Yes. And you were right, it wasn’t good to wear anymore.” 

Hannibal looked smug. 

”Well, it’s a great suit, Will,” said Alana. 

Will shrugged. “I cant take much credit for that, the design was mostly from Hannibal.” 

”Are you satisfied with how he looks?” Alana asked. 

Hannibal looked him over again, quicker this time. “I do wish you had done something about your hair.” 

”Too much effort,” Will said, running a hand through his hair to mess it up even more. Hannibal wrinkled his nose. Alana laughed. 

”Thoughts on the food?” said Alana as someone bearing a tray if hors d’oeuvres passed by. 

”Passable,” said Hannibal. “The wine, however, is very nice.” 

They chatted a bit more, Will not contributing much, mostly just using the two of them to discourage people from trying to talk to him. He flinched a little when someone touched his arm. He relaxed when he saw it was only Beverly in a deep blue dress, half empty flute of champagne in one hand. 

”Red alert, Graham,” she said. “Jack’s looking for you and he’s got a bunch of important looking people with him.” 

Will grimaced. “Great.” 

”Good news is dinner’s about to start and Jimmy’s got a table,” Beverly continued. “You doctors wanna join us?” 

Alana shook her head. “Can’t, there’s people I have to talk to.” 

”Sucks,” said Beverly. “What about you, Dr. Lecter?” 

Hannibal smiled. “I would love to join you.” 

Beverly led them to a table to the side of the room, three of the six seats already occupied by Price, Zeller and an unknown woman in a red pantsuit. 

”Thought you were sitting somewhere else?” Beverly said. 

Zeller shrugged. “Davids showed up.” 

”He’s really not as bad as you think,” Price said. 

”He spilled soda all over my laptop! It wasn’t even _his_ soda, it was _mine_!”

Hannibal pulled out a chair for Will and he flushed as he took it, Hannibal sitting next to him. His hand remained on the back of Will’s chair a moment, brushing against Will’s nape before he removed it. 

Will wished it had stayed longer. 

They were introduced to Beverly’s girlfriend, a chemist by the name of Caroline Pax. A voice came through the scattered speakers asking everyone to take their seats as dinner would be served soon. Will sighed in relief. He wouldn’t have to interact with anyone for a while yet. 

Will kind of enjoyed dinner: a simple salad, herb encrusted lamb and lemon cake. Hannibal had a few issues with it but he must’ve found it acceptable because he finished everything. 

After dinner, someone who thought himself very important got on stage and gave a long, winding speech. A few more people got on stage to some applause. They gave speeches, too, shorter than the first person, except one man who seemed to delight in trying to bore everyone to death. 

Hannibal had to nudge him a few times so he’d stay awake. Will toyed with the idea of leaning on his shoulder to take a nap. 

He was sure Hannibal would enjoy that. 

The last self important person left the stage and people began mingling again. Will eyed the door. If he ran fast enough he could reach his car before Jack—

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and his whole body flinched. He looked up to see Jack behind him. 

”Will, there you are,” Jack said. “There's a few people I’d like you to meet. We’ll start with Dr. Zania and Ms. Amorette.” 

Will sighed. He tossed Hannibal a pleading look, hoping he would help. 

”May I join you, Jack?” Hannibal asked. “It’s been some time since I last saw Ezra.” 

”Of course, Dr. Lecter.” 

”Thanks,” Will whispered as he and Hannibal followed behind Jack. 

”Anytime, Will,” Hannibal whispered back and Will couldn’t stop a small smile. 

Any and all ease he felt disappeared as he was introduced to a pair of women who looked at him in a way he was all too familiar with. 

They got pleasantries out of the way and Will readied himself for the usual mental poking and prodding, unconsciously edging closer to Hannibal. 

Then Hannibal started talking and Will faded into the background. 

Will watched as Hannibal caught and held their attention, effortlessly but unobtrusively dominating the conversation, pulling attention away from Will. 

Will’s heart fluttered. 

Jack left and returned with more people that wanted to poke around Will’s head. And after introductions and polite small talk, when they began asking _questions_ Hannibal would move in and Will could breathe again. 

It went like that for what felt like ages. Jack didn’t seem to mind that Will barely spoke, likely glad that Will was even still around. At one point a young woman mentioned a dog and, relaxed as he was, he began talking to her about pet antics while Hannibal distracted her father with (Will mentally wrinkled his nose) politics. 

They stood close enough that their hands would occasionally brush. During a lull between conversations, he slipped a hand into Hannibal’s and gave it a grateful squeeze. 

Hannibal tossed him a warm smile and Will had to take a swig from the champagne Hannibal had given him earlier. 

”All right, that’s everyone,” Jack said, clapping Will’s back. “Thanks for putting up with this, I know you hate it.” 

”It could’ve been worse,” said Will. 

”I can’t stop you from leaving, but can you stay a little longer?” Jack asked. “Just another hour?” 

Will sighed. “Yeah, fine.” 

Jack looked surprised. “Okay. Thank you.” 

Will just nodded. Jack cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later, Will.” 

Will watched him leave, wondering why he’d accepted, why he didn’t just return to his dogs. 

A hand, broad and warm and familiar, touched his back and he remembered _exactly_ why he was staying. 

"Would you like to go to the garden?” Hannibal smirked, looking almost playful. “Just because you said you’d stay doesn’t mean you need to mingle.” 

Will’s grin was wide and easy. “Let’s go.” 

Hannibal led him to the open garden doors, dropping their empty flutes off with a waiter. His hand was still on Will’s back. 

As he was led through the crowd, through the swarm of thinking, _feeling_ human beings, it occurred to Will that they weren’t crowding into his head. That their emotions weren’t squabbling for center stage in his mind. That, in fact, the only things he could feel were coming from himself…and the man beside him. 

Hannibal’s calm-bordering-on-stoicism and confidence-bordering-on-arrogance and almost playfulness were undeniable but discreet presences in his mind. 

It made Will feel like there were warm bubbles gently popping in his stomach, which honestly, was a sentence that made very little sense. 

He didn’t mind having Hannibal Lecter in his head. 

The sky outside was cloudy, obscuring the moon and stars, but there was enough light from the large windows and fireflies for them to get to a mostly hidden wrought iron bench. They sat and if Will’s legs could talk they would be thanking him. 

Will turned to Hannibal. “How long were we talking to people?” 

”Approximately one hour and ten minutes,” Hannibal answered. 

Will scowled. “I don’t know how you can stand it.” 

”You handled it well earlier,” Hannibal said. 

”Only because you were there,” Will said honestly. The pleased look on Hannibal’s face had something clicking into place for Will. “You like it when I rely on you.” 

”I do, yes,” said Hannibal. “Does that bother you?” 

It should, shouldn’t it? “It doesn’t.” 

Hannibal smiled. “Good.” 

They were distracted for a moment by a firefly lazily flying between them. Will blocked its path with hand and laughed softly as it flew over. 

”Their being here is totally man-made,” Will mused. 

Hannibal tipped his head in agreement. “It's unusual for them to be so far in the city.” 

”Do you like fireflies?” Will asked. 

”There were many where I grew up, they were attracted to my cochlear garden,” said Hannibal. 

”It’s really pretty to see out the window,” said Will, thinking back to his own childhood, watching the fireflies dance as he waited for his dad to come home. 

”Whenever the weather and my parents allowed, we would go out and dance amongst the fireflies,” said Hannibal. “My sister and I would watch Tėvas and Motina and try to imitate them to varying degrees of success.” 

”Are those good memories?” Will asked. 

”Occasionally,” said Hannibal. “Other times it hurts to see fireflies.” 

_Nope,_ Will thought. He refused to allow Hannibal to feel sad. 

He stood up, telling his legs to shut up and get over it, and held out a hand to Hannibal. Just like his legs, he ignored the part of him screaming to sit back down. 

”I don't really know how to dance, so you’re gonna have to lead,” Will said. 

He reveled in the look of surprise on Hannibal’s face before he smiled and accepted Will’s hand. “Very well, then.” 

He positioned Will’s hands: one in his own, the other on his shoulder, then pulled Will’s closer with a hand on his back. Eventually, Will thought, he’d feel uncomfortable without Hannibal’s hand there. 

They danced, going a beat slower than a normal waltz for Will’s sake. He kept looking down at their shoes. 

”Don’t look down, Will,” Hannibal said, amused. 

Will huffed. “I’d prefer not to step on your toes.” 

”You truly worry too much. Look at me, darling.” 

Fuck's sake, how was Will supposed to say no? 

He looked up, flushing—and immediately stepped on Hannibal. He cursed. Hannibal laughed. 

”Don’t look down,” Hannibal repeated. “Trust me, darling, trust yourself.” 

Will swallowed and made an effort to keep his eyes on Hannibal’s. After a minute, his movements smoothed out. Hannibal began humming and they sped up to a proper waltz. 

The first time Hannibal tried to spin him didn’t go so well, both of them almost falling. The next time went better and the next nearly seamless. He almost screamed when Hannibal dipped him, but laughed instead, Hannibal smiling back. 

”Is a waltz supposed to be this exhausting?” Will asked, panting. 

”It’s a good excuse to stay seated,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed again, then yelped as he was dipped. 

”Could you, please, warn me before you do that?” he demanded. Hannibal hummed, pretending to think about it. Will smacked his shoulder. 

Hannibal chuckled. He put Will’s other hand on his shoulder, holding on to Will’s waist as they simply swayed in place. 

Hannibal was warm. Will generally ran hot, but Hannibal’s warmth was pleasant, welcoming. 

Will gave in. He closed his eyes and moved his hand down Hannibal’s arm to put his head on his shoulder. Sandalwood, herbs and iron filled his nose. He felt Hannibal’s arms slide around him. 

Part of him wished he could blame his next actions on being drunk. 

Part of him gladly proclaimed he’d done everything sober. 

”Hannibal?” 

”Yes?” 

”What would you do if I said I wanted to kiss you?” 

”Then I would kiss you.” 

”Why?” 

”Because I want to kiss you as well.” 

Will’s heart raced in his chest. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Hannibal’s pulse wasn’t exactly steady either. 

He took a deep breath. 

”Hannibal?” 

”Yes, my dear?” 

”I want to kiss you,” Will whispered. 

A hand on his cheek brought his face up, but he kept his eyes closed. 

”Look at me, Will.” 

Will slowly opened his eyes. He gasped a little at what he found in Hannibal’s. It was that same admiring, possessive look as when he’d first seen Will earlier. 

”Tell me again,” said Hannibal. 

Will licked his lip, shivering at how Hannibal followed the movement. “I want to kiss you.” 

Something like satisfaction, but not quite, too dark, lit Hannibal’s eyes. He smiled, teeth sharp. 

”As you wish.” 

Then Hannibal’s lips were on his, bodies pressed tight together. He gasped and just like that, there was a tongue in his mouth, running over his teeth, taking and claiming him. 

Will trembled and fought back, mapping out Hannibal’s mouth in turn, getting his hands in that perfect hair, happily messing it up. Will’s knees were close to giving out. He could feel Hannibal’s heart thrumming in his chest, echoing the frantic rhythm of Will’s own. 

They pulled back, gasping for air, Hannibal more controlled than Will. 

”That was different,” Will said. 

”Perhaps we can discuss that on Tuesday,” Hannibal replied. 

Will’s responding laugh quickly turned into a moan when Hannibal kissed him again. 

He felt like a fucking teenager as they stood there kissing and touching for longer than Will could bother to track. 

He felt _alive_.

”Will? Hannibal?” 

They both froze. Then Hannibal was tugging Will around a corner, hiding them both from what sounded like Alana. Will leaned his forehead on Hannibal’s, grinning. 

”I think we’re too old to be doing this kind of sneaking around,” Will whispered. 

”Shh.” 

Will snorted out a quiet laugh. 

Hannibal gave a quick kiss to his hair. Will smiled. 

”We should make ourselves presentable,” said Hannibal. 

”Okay,” said Will. He drew back and started smoothing Hannibal’s hair back down as Hannibal fixed Will’s clothes. 

”Why did you come here with a crooked tie?” Hannibal asked, undoing said tie. 

”I re-did it, like, four times, it just wouldn’t cooperate,” said Will. Part of Hannibal’s fringe was falling over his forehead. Will didn’t do anything to fix it. 

Hannibal didn’t either. His hands rested on Will’s waist after redoing with Will's tie. 

”Shall we?” 

Will nodded. 

As if they’d just been walking around, they rounded the corner with a respectable distance between them. Alana who had been in the process of turning away, turned right back around to face them. 

”There you two are,” she said. 

”Are we needed somewhere?” Hannibal asked. 

”No, it’s just I saw Chilton head out here and I thought I should warn you,” said Alana. 

”Thanks,” Will said, casting a distrustful look around. He hoped Chilton hadn’t seen anything. 

”The warning is much appreciated,” said Hannibal. “Shall we head back inside? Or would you prefer to head home?” 

Will checked his watch. “I should go home, especially if Chilton’s trying to hunt me down. Jack'll probably let me by now.” 

”He should,” Alana agreed. “Some people are starting to leave.” 

Had they really been out here dancing and kissing for so long? The warm, popping bubbles reappeared, intensifying at Hannibal’s next words. 

”Let’s say our goodbyes, shall we?” he said. As if _of course_ they were leaving together, at the same time, _with each other_.

”Let’s.” 

They bid Alana good night and goodbye then went back to the party. Will asked why they had to say goodbye to so many people and Hannibal said it was only polite. Will grumbled but followed behind him. 

(It would occur to him much, _much_ later that he could’ve just left right then and there and not get sucked into a fifteen minute long conversation with the earlier Mr. Monologuer, but why would he want to deprive himself of another few minutes by Hannibal’s side?) 

Outside, coats on, as they waited for their cars, Will turned to Hannibal. “You’re gonna get home later than me, so you’re gonna have to call.” 

Hannibal smiled. “Very well, then. Would you mind terribly if I called again in the morning?” 

”I wouldn’t mind at all,” said Will. 

His car pulled up, Hannibal’s right behind it. 

”Bye, Hannibal.” 

”Goodbye, my dear.” 

A by now familiar flush warmed his cheeks at the endearment. Will wanted to kiss him, but couldn’t bring himself to with a bunch of hotel staff around. He got in his car and drove off, Hannibal watching him until he took a turn. 

He was careful on the drive home, more because there wasn’t any need to rush than anything else. He’d let the dogs out, fed them and left them water before getting ready for the party, so they were fine. 

The dogs swarmed him once he opened the door. They must’ve been able to smell Hannibal on him because a few stuck their heads outside looking for their favorite treat giver. 

He got them settled down then readied for bed himself. He kept an eye on his phone the whole time. 

Dressed in boxers, a shirt and his suit jacket (because his dogs were right: it did smell like Hannibal) he leaned back against his pillows, phone in his hands on his lap. Now he _really_ felt like a teenager, waiting for his boyfriend to call. 

He bit his cheek. Boyfriend sounded so juvenile. He needed to call Hannibal something else. Lover? 

_A lover is someone whose company one enjoys even–slash–especially when naked._

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. If he blushed any harder, his face would start bleeding. 

He rubbed his cheeks, telling himself to calm the fuck down and stop thinking of how how wonderful Hannibal had felt pressed against him and the warm hands on his back…

He'd kissed Hannibal Lecter. God, _he'd kissed Hannibal Lecter._

A hysterical laugh left him. He dropped his phone to press his fingers against his lips—lips that had felt _Hannibal Lecter's_ on them, that had parted for Hannibal's tongue—

His phone rang. He made a concentrated effort not to answer it too quickly. 

”Hi.” 

_”Hello again, Will,”_ Hannibal said. Will tilted his head at the sounds in the background from Hannibal’s end, focusing on that to try and force his heart to resume a normal pace. 

”Did you just get home?” he asked. 

_”Yes,”_ came the answer along with the sound of a closing door. _”I called you as soon as I exited my car. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”_

The easy candor had him smiling. “Thank you, but I could’ve waited while you got comfortable.” 

_”Perhaps I wanted you to join me during my nighttime routine,”_ said Hannibal. 

”And what would that entail?” Will asked. 

_”Not much,”_ Hannibal said. _”You will have to talk while I brush my teeth.”_

With anyone else, he would be hated being forced to fill the air with conversation. Especially with a psychiatrist who would analyze each word that left him without conscious thought. But this was Hannibal. 

”Yeah, sure.” 

_”Thank you, darling.”_

”That’s gonna be a thing with you, isn’t it?” Will mused. “The petnames.” 

_”I have been considering some in other languages as well,”_ said Hannibal. _”Mon chéri, caro mio, mano širdis.”_

Will shivered. “Yeah, I can barely handle the English ones.” 

_”What do you mean by handle?”_

”Shut up, you.” 

Hannibal chuckled. Will once again found himself wishing for a better speaker. _”One moment,”_ said Hannibal. There was the sound of his phone being put down and when his voice next came there was an echo to it that told Will he was on speaker. _”Did you actually enjoy any part of the party?”_

”Um.” There were rustling sounds which Will eventually figured out were the sounds of Hannibal changing . He had to tear his mind away from the mental image to focus on the question. He blamed his distraction for the answer he gave. “I enjoyed being with you.” 

He could almost hear Hannibal’s slow smile. _”So did I. Tonight went in a wondrous direction.”_

”I’m glad you think so.” 

_”How could I not when I’ve finally kissed you?”_

”’Finally’?” Will repeated, shifting to lie down properly. “And how long have you been wanting to kiss me, Dr. Lecter?” 

_”If I truly think about it, the answer would be when I first met you in Jack’s office,”_ Hannibal answered. 

Will grinned. “And you still took me on as a patient? How scandalous of you, Doctor.” 

_”You’re not my patient, Will,”_ Hannibal reminded him as the phone was transferred to another surface. 

”I’m pretty sure there’s still a rule being broken here somewhere.” 

_”Perhaps that is part of the appeal.”_

”Are you calling me a bad influence on you?” 

_”You could only ever be perfect for me, darling.”_

Oh, look, that cheek bleeding blush was back. “That might be pushing it,” he said, quietly. 

Hannibal made a non-committal noise. There was the sound of things hitting other things then a quick burst of running water. _”Tell me something I don’t already know about you.”_

Will launched into the first story to come to mind as Hannibal brushed his teeth. He told him about the elderly women (lesbians though they were careful to hide it from their conservative neighbors) who had taught him how to make key lime pie for his dad’s birthday. 

Probably not the best story to go with, seeing as after Hannibal finished, he said that Will _had_ to make it for him sometime and none of Will’s trying to beg out of it would work. Will gave in and begrudgingly said he _might_ make it _one day_.

”Are you in bed?” Will asked. 

_”I am. Are you sleepy?”_

Will immediately yawned. “Little bit.” 

_”Shall I bid you good night?”_

”No,” Will said. “I don’t want you to hang up yet.” 

_”Would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”_

Fuck it. “Yeah.” 

_”Shall I read to you?”_ There was some rustling. Probably Hannibal reaching for his tablet. _”An article, perhaps.”_

Will scrunched his nose. “I don’t think that would help me fall asleep.” 

_”Something in another language, then.”_

”That should be good.” He frowned. “You don’t mind doing this, do you?” 

Hannibal’s laugh was low. _”Spending time with you in any medium is never a burden, caro mio.”_

”Oh,” Will said. He hid his face in his pillow despite no one being there to see him. 

_”Are you ready?”_

”Yeah.” 

_”Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita…”_

Will’s eyes closed as the lilting cadence of Hannibal’s Italian filled his mind. He was vaguely aware that it was Dante but he didn’t know any Italian, so the only thing he was certain of was how much he liked the sound of Hannibal’s voice. Low and raspy, like he smoked a pack a day, even though he would never, due to the damage it could do to his palate. 

_He’s reciting this from memory and not reading it, isn’t he?,_ he thought. 

He fell asleep. 

  


=¤=

He was woken by a call. His phone was still so close to his face that he nearly fell off his bed because of the volume. 

He glared at the offending object, not wanting to pick up for no other reason than because he knew it couldn’t be Hannibal. He’d never call before making sure Will was awake. He looked outside. The sky was just beginning to gray with the dawn. 

Who was calling was too obvious. 

He flipped his phone over to see the screen. He sighed. 

_Jack Crawford._

His reprieve was over. 

He answered the call. “Where do I need to go?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things, friends:  
> 1) all my Hannibal knowledge comes from the show and wikipedia and I'm kinda just picking and choosing what I wanna play with from various canons so if Hanni's backstory comes off as weird it's because I'm playing with him.  
> 2) I probably should've said this way earlier, but I'm gonna be doing plenty of messing around with the show timeline so...you have been warned  
> 3)I managed to forget that their appointments are on Thrusday???? I thought it was Tuesday???? And I only found out halfway through writing this whole thing and it was too late to change things by then, so...sorry if that bothers anyone my memory is terrible.  
> That said, I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter, though, it's mostly set up.

When Hannibal opened the door, Will immediately threw his arms around him. Once Hannibal was holding him, too, Will felt, for the first time in almost 60 hours, like he could breathe.

Hannibal attempted to pull away and Will whined (he’d find it embarrassing later, but at the moment he hadn’t cared). 

”Shh, I’m simply moving us somewhere more comfortable,” Hannibal reassured. 

Will let himself be brought to the chaise where he lay tucked into Hannibal’s side, one of Hannibal’s arms tucked securely around Will’s back, the hand of the other holding Will’s atop his chest. 

”We still have our shoes on,” Will remarked after some time had passed. 

”Yes, we do,” said Hannibal. 

Will closed his eyes. “I sure hope you don’t treat all your patients like this, Dr. Lecter.” 

”I promise you, Will, you’re the only one who gets this treatment.” 

”Good.” 

They went quiet again, Hannibal making circles on the back of Will’s hand. He kissed Will’s hair. 

”Tell me about the case.” 

Will took a deep breath. Opened his eyes. Moves his hand so he could intertwine his fingers with Hannibal’s. Took another deep breath. 

”It’s kids,” he said, hiding his face in Hannibal’s neck. “A bunch of kids killing their families.” 

”Why?” 

”Because they feel like they have to,” said Will. “Because they’re being made to.” 

”By whom?” 

”Current theory is an older kid who killed his family the same way: everyone else first, the mother last,” said Will. His next words were softer, quieter. “There was forgiveness in the mother’s eyes. She loved her child even as he pointed a gun at her.” 

”Love is acceptance, is it not?” Hannibal said. “To see someone’s flaws and demons and love them as much as you love the brighter, kinder parts of them.” 

Will looked at Hannibal’s hand in his. Darker and broader, fingers a bit longer. Hannibal’s hand was softer, but they were equally calloused. “I guess. But I’m not sure that’s what the mother was going through.” 

”What do you think she was going through?” Hannibal asked. 

”A goodbye,” Will said. “A goodbye she was trying to make as painless as she could. She knew this was going to mess him up, but she wanted to make it just a little bit easier, trying not to ruin him beyond repair.” 

”Do you think the children would be?” said Hannibal. 

”I don’t know,” Will answered. “Maybe. I’m not an expert in child psychology. What’s your opinion?” 

”Though I’m not an expert either, I suppose I would need to meet them first,” said Hannibal. “Find out exactly what they have been going through.” 

Will made a noise in agreement. “Did you see your parents die?” 

He winced after saying it. Not exactly the best thing to ask, but he’d already said it and Hannibal was surely by now used to his word vomit. 

”I didn’t,” Hannibal answered. “My last memory of them is my father pushing me out the door, my sister in my arms, my mother with a rifle in her hands saying they would buy us time. I would next see them, years later, as a pair of tombstones.” 

Will didn’t ask about the sister. It didn’t seem like the time. 

”My last memory of Dad is him in a hospital bed, telling me to go back to work, saying he’d be fine soon. I got the call that night that he’d had another heart attack,” said Will. 

Hannibal kissed his hair again. Will squeezed his hand. They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. A loud motorcycle sped down the street outside. 

”Could you distract me, please?” said Will. 

”Are you certain?” said Hannibal. 

”Yes.” 

”Wait here, then.” 

Hannibal eased Will off of him and got to his feet. Will sat up, watching him go to his desk and take something out of a drawer. He narrowed his eyes. 

”Is this gonna be a thing?” Will asked. “Are you gonna give me something every time I come here?” 

”That is the plan, yes,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed, accepting the box as Hannibal sat (so close) next to him. Upon seeing the store name atop the box, he knew what it was and his heart picked up its pace. He remembered Hannibal cupping his face and being measured for rings. 

”I forgot about this,” he said. 

”I anticipated you would,” Hannibal admitted. “It’s why I kept the receipt instead of giving it to you. Go ahead and open the box, Will.” 

Will swallowed and did as he was told. 

It really was pretty. 

The cufflinks were rectangular blue stones connected by slim platinum chains to a series of rings: three on the left, two on the right. More blue stones decorated the rings. 

”I’m glad you're wearing one of the shirts from Adelmo,” said Hannibal. “Would you like to try them on?” 

Will nodded, jerky. “Put them on me?” 

Hannibal smiled. 

He fixed Will’s sleeves and began with Will’s left hand: two rings on his pinky and one on his thumb before affixing the toggle back cufflink and going to Will’s right hand: a ring each on his index and ring finger, then the cufflink. Each ring had a different design. 

”What do you think?” asked Hannibal softly. 

Will tipped his hand side to side, watching the stones and chains catch and glitter in the light. They didn’t look as out of place on him as he’d feared. It made his hands look more delicate than they were. As if they hadn’t felt and dealt death before. 

”I like them.” He looked up at Hannibal. “Thank you.” 

”You never need to thank me, Will.” Hannibal brought Will’s hands up to his face and kissed each one of his knuckles, lips warm and not breaking eye contact. 

_Oh, God._

Will leaned forward to properly kiss him, squeezing Hannibal’s hands, feeling the rings dig into his fingers. Hannibal seemed surprised at first, then he was kissing Will back, licking into his mouth with the same casual propriety as when they’d first kissed among the fireflies. 

Will was all too happy to surrender to him. 

Finally, Will pulled away for air, snuggling against Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal pet Will’s hair. 

”The distraction was wonderful,” said Will. 

”I’m happy to be of service,” said Hannibal. “There’s something I must ask you.” 

”Yeah?” 

”Your fitting with Adelmo tomorrow, shall I reschedule it for later in the week?” Hannibal asked. 

Will frowned. He shook his head. “I don’t want you to, I want to go. Distractions can be good, right? I just don’t know if Jack will let me.” 

”With how far you allow Jack’s killers into your head, I would say distraction is very good for you,” said Hannibal. “I can push it back to early evening if you think that will work.” 

”That’ll be all right with him?” Will asked. 

”Of course,” Hannibal reassured. “Adelmo likes you.” 

Will wasn’t quite sure he believed that last bit, but he accepted it. “Okay. I’ll figure something out if Jack won’t let me leave.” 

”I wish I could join you, but I have a prior engagement with an old colleague,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ll be fine alone,” Will promised. 

”But you don’t need to be,” Hannibal said. 

Will moved his head just enough to meet Hannibal’s eyes and give him a teasing smile. “That’s why I have my dogs.” 

Hannibal raised a brow. “Only your dogs?” 

Will hummed. 

Hannibal kissed him. 

  


=¤=

The distraction was definitely good for him. It was sorely needed after telling Jack about the mother figure Alana helped him realize must be with the children. He met Giulia while Adelmo adjust more patchwork suits on his frame and found her nice. Three people in such a small intimate space, would’ve been more than enough to overwhelm—especially with his current headspace—but they were all so calm and warm that it wasn’t _too_ much. 

Still much, but not _too_ much.

He missed Hannibal, though. 

Missed him a little less, though, when Will let their relationship slip and Giulia made an offer that he was _very_ glad Hannibal wasn’t around to overhear. 

Adelmo, thankfully put a stop to that (after some commentary of his own) and the rest of the appointment went well. It was so far removed from Will’s usual lot that it was…peaceful. 

He’d hoped the feeling would last a while.

It didn’t.

  


Will stumbled to his door, the sun setting, his dogs going wild inside the house. 

His movements were jerky and mechanical as he let the dogs out and readied some food and water for them. He stripped down, arms almost too heavy to lift over his head. He stared sightless at his drawer. 

He jumped when he felt a cold nose against the back of his leg. He spun around and saw Winston. Staring at him. Will broke. 

He dropped to his knees. His hands shook as he pet down Winston’s back. Winston whined and licked Will’s face. Will managed a weak laugh. 

”I can’t do this,” he choked out. 

He dug his phone out of his discarded pants and dialed Hannibal. 

  


Will didn’t know how much time passed as he waited. He was vaguely aware of the sky going dark and the dogs coming back in, eating their dinner and crowding around Will. He should close the door. He was probably letting mosquitoes in. 

He stayed where he was. 

A car rumbled up to the house and his dogs perked up. A few of them got up to investigate, barking excitedly as they recognized the car. That got his other dogs racing outside, too. Winston didn’t leave, but his eyes were affixed on the door. 

Hannibal appeared, slightly impeded by the dogs running around him for treats and to sniff at the bags he held in one hand. 

Despite everything, Will felt his lips curve. 

Hannibal counted the dogs, making sure they were all inside, before closing the door. He crouched down in front of Will, putting the bags aside and letting Winston have the last of the sausage. “Good evening, mon chèri.” 

”Hi.” His eyes went to the bags. “What in the world have you brought me this time?” 

”Dinner. And a gift.” So saying, Hannjbal pulled a blanket out of one of the bags and draped it over Will, pulling it tight across his shoulders. 

Will blinked. The blanket was a deep purple color, unbelievably soft and warm and—Will’s heart stuttered— _it smelled like Hannibal._

He wondered if Hannibal had pulled it right off his bed.

He probably had. 

”I love it,” said Will, remembering had said about not saying thank you. 

Hannibal’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Good. Would you like to eat on the floor or shall we find chairs?” 

Will laughed, this time actually sounding like he was laughing. “Help me up.” 

As they went to the kitchen hand in hand, it occurred to Will that, underneath the blanket, he was dressed in only an undershirt and boxers with a hole near the band. He neglected to care about it. 

He was made to sit by the counter as Hannibal began taking ingredients out of the second bag. Apparently he’d just grabbed a few things before heading over instead of making something quick at his place so he could get to Will faster. 

For that, Will had grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close for a kiss. 

Hannibal made no comment on Will’s sparse cooking tools aside from telling him that he should really get his oven fixed or buy a new one. 

Will immediately said that Hannibal wasn’t allowed to get him a new one. 

He had the oddest feeling that Hannibal was pouting where he couldn’t see. 

Winston came trotting in for the dinner he hadn’t had yet and Hannibal nudged the bowl out of his immediate area. The other dogs came in when he started frying bacon and he tossed them more sausage. Will flicked water at him from the sink and told him to stop spoiling his dogs. Hannibal responded by kissing him. A valid argument as far as Will was concerned. 

Will _breathed._

They ate at the counter: carbonara with a side of thick cut bacon and little mismatched bowls of salad made out of things from Will’s fridge that he’d forgotten were there but Hannibal deemed still fit for human consumption. There was also half of a very, very dried out onion. It was tossed out. 

Hannibal sat close enough for Will to lean against him. Which he did, one hand keeping the blanket around him and eating with the other. 

Everything tasted perfect. Everything _felt_ perfect. Calling Hannibal had been a _perfect_ idea. 

He offered to do the dishes, but Hannibal simply put everything in the sink to soak. He said they’d deal with it in the morning. 

Then he scooped Will up into his arms, startling a laugh out of him. He called Hannibal ridiculous as he was carried back to the front room, still laughing. 

He sat down on the armchair by the fireplace, Will on his lap. Instead of getting up, Will adjusted to be more comfortable. He reached out to pet a few of his dogs. Hannibal kissed near his ear. 

”Are you ready to tell me what distressed you so much, darling?” Hannibal asked. 

Will’s shoulders stayed loose. In Hannibal’s arms, not even the killers in his head could touch him—or at least that’s what it felt like. 

”We found the kids. A camera caught them in a gas station and we figured out which family they were going to next. I had one of the kids and the woman ruining them cornered: he had a gun me and she had a gun on him and I put my gun on the ground, trying to tell him everything was gonna be okay. Beverly shot the woman and I got the kid out of there. I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to him.” 

”Children are stronger than most give them credit for,” said Hannibal, lips moving over Will’s ear. “He will be changed, undoubtedly, but he need not be ruined by this experience. His family is safe?” 

Will nodded. 

”Then have a little faith in them, caro mio. Have faith in love.” 

”I’ll try,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal started rubbing Will’s back through the blanket. 

”Were you changed?” Will asked. “By your family's death?” 

Hannibal didn’t falter. “Not as much as one might assume. Immediately after, I was very different, but I regained myself with time.” 

”How were you different?” Will said. 

”I didn’t speak for some time and there were certain foods I couldn’t bring myself to eat,” said Hannibal. 

Will furrowed his brows. “I can’t imagine you like that.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “I was very different, yes. My aunt helped me a great deal, teaching me meditation and ways to defend myself.” 

”She sounds cool,” said Will. 

”She is,” said Hannibal. 

Will looked up. “Is she still around?” 

”To my knowledge, yes,” Hannibal answered. “My Uncle died some time ago and she returned to her home country of Japan. I have not spoken to her since I left Paris due to a disagreement we had.” 

”Do you miss her?” 

”I used to,” said Hannibal. “But now I only wish her a good life and a peaceful death.” 

Will didn’t ask about the disagreement. If Hannibal didn’t think it important, then it wasn’t. 

”Were you changed?” Hannibal asked. 

”Not really,” said Will. “It hurt and I missed him, still do, but the biggest thing, I think, was the feeling of loneliness. That feeling didn’t so much fade as I got used to it when I moved out here.” 

”Is that feeling still there?” 

Will smiled and kissed Hannibal’s jaw. “Not as much.” 

Hannibal cupped his cheek, tilting his head for a proper kiss. 

”Could you…” Will stuttered against Hannibal’s lips. “Could you stay the night?” 

Hannibal smiled. “I will confess that I brought clothes with me in the car, hoping I could stay with you.” 

Will laughed. 

They got ready for bed. Will changed into a different pair of undershirt and boxers, not needing Hannibal’s sweater when he had Hannibal himself. 

Hannibal had brought his own toiletries and the sheer domesticity of brushing their teeth together had Will’s heart thrumming. Hannibal had some kind of face cream and hand lotion that he insisted on putting on Will as well. Will agreed mostly to feel Hannibal’s hands on him. 

Will made no mention of them sleeping anywhere but in the bed together. Neither of them made a move towards sex. They just lay in each other’s arms, the purple blanket pulled over them. Hannibal felt so, _so_ good against him. 

”Good night, mon chéri.” 

”Good night, Hannibal.” 

  


=¤=

Will woke from a dreamless sleep, sprawled on his stomach, Hannibal half on top of him, hand on Will’s thigh. 

Will let his eyes fall shut again, luxuriating in the moment. It was early morning, just cool enough that Hannibal’s warmth was pleasant. Breathing was a bit hard, but he could put up with it. 

He wanted to wake like this everyday. 

Hannibal roused a little later. He didn’t get off, instead stroking his hand up and down Will’s side and nuzzling his nose against Will’s nape. He took a deep breath. 

Will huffed. “Do I smell good?” 

Hannibal kissed his neck. “You smell like warmth…and me…and, unfortunately, of that aftershave I truly must replace for you.” 

Will laughed. “That so?” He turned around, Hannibal rising just enough for Will to lay on his back. He reached up, a bit hesitantly, to touch Hannibal’s stubbly jaw. “Speaking of shave.” 

”In a moment,” said Hannibal. He pressed their foreheads together. Will smiled. 

”This is nice,” Will whispered. It was, of course, too good to last. 

His phone rang from where he’d left it by his dresser near the foot of his bed. He tensed all over, dread filling him. 

Hannibal ran a hand through Will’s hair. “Allow me.” 

Will had to stop himself from grabbing Hannibal when he got off the bed. He wanted to go back to five seconds ago when they were warm and content and the day had looked so good. 

He sat up, watching Hannibal nudge aside Marie who had been curiously sniffing the ringing phone. He picked it up and looked at Will. “It’s Jack.” 

Not that there was anyone else it could be. Will held out a hand. 

Hannibal didn’t give it immediately. He got behind Will, pulling him against his chest, strong and comforting at Will’s back. It made answering the call just a bit easier. 

”Where do I need to go?” 

  


”Are you sure?” 

”I promise not to set your house on fire while you’re gone, Will.” 

Will flushed. “That’s not what I meant.” 

”I know, darling,” Hannibal said. “I also know you must go. I’ll take care of things here before I leave.” 

A travel mug of coffee and a sandwich in a paper towel was placed into Will’s hands. Hannibal had made them while Will had taken a quick shower. The kiss Hannibal gave him had him melting. 

”Go on, mon chéri, your talents are needed,” said Hannibal. 

Will hesitated by the door. “Can I some see you tonight?” 

”My door is always and forever open to you, Will.” 

Will made his way to his car. His dogs were running around, doing their business as they waited to be called back inside for breakfast. Hannibal watched him from the porch, still in his pajamas, hair still unstyled, face still unshaven. 

Will couldn’t believe he was leaving _this_ for some corpses. 

He sighed. 

  


=¤=

He didn't get to visit that night.

  


=¤=

Four days later had Will staring up at the corpse of Elliot Buddish as it hung from the rafters of a barn, back skinned and splayed to mimic wings. A man who had suffered from a brain tumor and turned himself into an angel.

Will trembled. 

He wanted to go home. 

He wanted his dogs. 

He _needed_ Hannibal. 

”I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Jack,” he said. 

Jack froze beside him and Will knew he didn’t like what he’d just heard, but he’d _had_ to say it. His body felt weighed down by a mountain, his mind sand scattered in the wind with each particle _aching_. He hadn’t been able to see Hannibal since he'd left him at Will’s house—he’d even had to cancel his appointment due to the travelling they had to do for the case. He didn’t even get a chance to bring the blanket along, despite how much it made him feel like a child to miss it. 

He was _exhausted._

”What are you saying, Will?” Jack said. His voice would’ve been cold if not tor the raging flames beneath. 

Will didn’t reply. 

Jack’s words were delivered like lashes on Will’s back. “Do you want to quit? Is that it?” 

Will thought he would’ve preferred an actual lashing. 

”Go ahead,” Jack said. “I can’t stop you from leaving, Will—“ _can’t you?_ ”—Go back to your nice, safe classroom while more monsters wreak havoc outside.” 

Jack turned around, exiting the barn. Will was left there with Elliot's angel. 

And the demons in his head. 

  


=¤=

It was 11:48 p.m. and Will was standing in front of Hannibal’s door. He really should get in his car, go home and bother the man in the morning. 

He shut his eyes. Behind his lids, all he could see was Buddish, knelt on the ground, offering Will freedom, Will on fire reflected in his eyes. 

He slammed his palm against the bell. 

After a moment, a light went on and the door opened. The (mostly hidden) displeasure on Hannibal’s face disappeared at the sight of Will. 

”Darling.” 

_Oh, God._

Will collapsed into Hannibal’s arms , for the second time in as many weeks, unable to process anything beyond relief. He was pulled inside, the door closed behind him. Hannibal rubbed his hands up and down Will’s arms. 

”You’re cold. Where is your coat?” 

Will had no idea. He didn’t answer. Hannibal seemed to accept it. 

”I’ll run you a bath,” said Hannibal. “Have you eaten?” 

Will thought about it. He shook his head. 

Hannibal frowned. “When did you last eat, caro mio?” 

”I dunno,” Will answered. 

Hannibal sighed. “Are your dogs taken care of?” 

And that—Hannibal’s concern over these creatures Will considered dear for no other reason that _because_ Will considered them dear— _that_ managed to make Will’s lips twitch into something resembling a smile. “Yeah, I called a sitter for them.” 

”Good.” He kissed Will’s forehead. “Let’s go upstairs.” 

Will was taken, for the first time, to Hannibal’s bedroom. It was luxurious and lavish with a stand of samurai armor outside the door and a fireplace near the bed. He was made to sit on the bed with its green and purple sheets and welcoming softness. The only reason he didn’t go right to sleep was Hannibal’s large hand cupping his face. 

”Wait here while I fix a bath for you,” Hannibal said. He disappeared into the en suite and Will could hear the sound of running water and bottles opening and closing as Hannibal did whatever he deemed necessary for a proper bath. Will couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath instead of a shower. Couldn’t remember if he ever actually had. 

Hannibal returned and pulled Will to his feet. “Go soak, I’ll bring something up for you to eat.” 

Before he left, Will brought him in for a long kiss, trying to make him feel his gratitude and the lo—affection Will had for him. 

Hannibal’s smile as he pulled away said the message had been received. 

Alone in the black bathroom, Will tried to be neat as he piled his clothes on the sink. The white tub was sunk into hip high marble in an alcove in the wall next to the shower. The water was just the right kind of almost too hot and smelled like sandalwood and lavender. He slid in and tipped his head back against the edge, closing his eyes. 

”It’s not a good idea to sleep there, Will.” 

Will’s eyes flew open. He looked over to see Hannibal at the door, a tray in his hands. He didn’t know how much time had passed. The water wasn’t any colder, but the tub was likely heated, so that wasn’t any help. 

”I wasn’t sleeping,” Will said. “I was just resting my eyes.” 

”Of course. My apologies.” Hannibal put the tray down on the marble surrounding the tub. On it was a big, steaming mug; a glass of wine; a plate with small crisp pieces of bread either smeared with patê or topped with tartare; and a bowl of melted chocolate surrounded by things to dip in it. 

Will smiled. “I feel spoiled.” 

”Good. That was my intention,” said Hannibal. He sat on the edge, one knee up to better face Will. “Would you prefer to eat or should I feed you?” 

Will looked at how the tray was angled more towards Hannibal than himself. He huffed. “I’m pretty sure if I tried feeding myself, I’d just drop things in the water, which I’m a pretty sure was _also_ part of your ‘intentions'.” 

Hannibal tipped his head and held out the glass of wine. “You can hold your drink.” 

Will rolled his eyes. He took the glass. 

He accepted each bite sized piece of bread, eventually ceasing to care about whether or not his lips touched Hannibal’s fingers. He’d had the man’s tongue in his mouth, who cared if he kissed his fingers. 

Once the wine and bread were gone, he was handed the mug which was full of thick hot chocolate. He grabbed Hannibal by the collar for a kiss, unsurprised that he remembered, but touched that he would bother. 

He insisted that Hannibal have some of the fruit, too. Going so far as to lean a little out of the tub to grab one and pop it into Hannibal’s mouth. He laughed when he saw he’d managed to splash water on Hannibal. 

After everything had been consumed (Will frowning when Hannibal wouldn’t let him lick up the last of the chocolate in the bowl), Hannibal washed Will’s hair. His fingers massaging Will’s still achy head nearly eased him into sleep. 

His blinks were long and heavy as he was pulled out of the tub. He ran a fluffy towel over his body while Hannibal patted Will’s hair dry with another. He dressed himself in some of Hannibal’s pajamas and a pair of underwear fresh from the package. They went through the same routine as they’d done at Will’s house, Will smiling a little at the symmetry. 

They went to the large bed, curling around each other in the middle, Will’s head tucked under Hannibal’s chin. 

”Shall we talk in the morning?” Hannibal asked. 

”We can talk about it now,” Will said. The dark and quiet of the night blanketed them, promising to hide away any secrets they told. 

”Then tell me what has you upset,” said Hannibal. 

Will took a deep breath. “The first two bodies were—"

”Will,” Hannibal interrupted, startling him. He couldn’t recall Hannibal interrupting anyone. “You need not tell me all the details of the case. Only what about it has driven you to my home so late in the night.” 

Will licked his lip. Chewed on it. Squeezed Hannibal’s bicep. Burrowed deeper into Hannibal’s chest. 

”He had a brain tumor,” Will said. “He was dying. He left his family…he must have been so lonely.” 

”Why does it bother you so much that he left his family?” Hannibal asked. 

”Don’t get me wrong, I get it,” said Will. “He wanted to protect his family, didn’t want to hurt them by making them watch him slowly die, but…”

”But your heart sides with his family,” said Hannibal. “As someone who couldn’t be with someone you love before they leave forever.” 

Will nodded. 

”And there’s nothing wrong with that. Loss never truly disappears and old pains are easily felt again. Especially with the stress you are under, having two strenuous cases with no down time in between.” Hannibal paused. “I had hoped you would call if you were troubled.” 

Will’s silence was telling. 

Hannibal sighed, tightening his arms around Will. “You could never bother me, mano širdis. Each second of your time, each word you give me is a gift I will treasure until my death and in the world beyond. I care for you, Will.” 

Will shook from the strength and sincerity in Hannibal’s voice. He scrunched his eyes shut. Whispered: “I care for you, too.” 

Hannibal kissed Will’s hair. “And it is my opinion as someone who cares for you and as a psychiatrist that perhaps you should consider taking a break from consulting for Jack Crawford.” 

”I tried,” Will confessed. 

”What do you mean?” 

”Earlier, after we found the killer’s body,” said Will, “I told him I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do my job.” 

”What happened?” 

Will hesitated. “I…I’m helping people. Protecting them, saving them.” 

”I don’t care about other people, Will, I care about _you_ ,” said Hannibal. “And this job is not good for you.” 

”But I’m good for the job,” Will responded, pulling back to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “I cant stop, Hannibal.” 

”I’m not asking you to stop, darling,” said Hannibal. “I’m asking you to take a break.” 

”Two issues with that.” 

”Name them.” 

Will had to smile. Hannibal looked and sounded like he was getting ready to go out and deal with those issues the moment Will said them. 

”One: if a killer pops up, Jack won’t care about me being on break.” 

”That can be easily handled.” 

Will ignored him. “Two: if I take a break, I don’t think I’ll ever go back.” 

”Perhaps that’s a good thing. We can take a trip somewhere,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ll think about it,” Will said. 

”Will you?” 

He kissed Hannibal’s chin. “Yeah. Promise.” 

Hannibal smiled. “Thank you.” 

Before Will could reply, his mouth stretched in a yawn. Hannibal tucked Will’s head back under his chin. “Go to sleep, mano širdis,” he said. 

Will nodded. “Good night.” 

”Labanaktis. Saldžių sapnų.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last line (hopefully) means: "Good night. Sweet dreams." Or some variant of such.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for me to earn that rating! Probably unrealistic sex, you have my apologies. Also, I promise these chapters won't always begin and end with waking and sleeping.  
> Hope you enjoy!!

Will woke up alone. He initially tensed, but calmed at the scent of cooking meat. With the late night they’d had, it was absurd that Hannibal was already up, but it was Hannibal.

He stretched, eyeing the light coming in through a crack in the curtains. It was later in the morning than he’d thought, around 9. He sat up, trying to decide between burrowing back into the sheets and hunting down some coffee. 

The door opened. 

Hannibal walked in with a mug of what smelled like coffee and Will didn’t need to decide. He leaned back against the ornate headboard. 

”Good morning, my darling.” 

Will’s hands clenched around Egyptian cotton sheets. Hannibal looked amazing; still a bit mussed from sleep, a robe tied around his waist, eyes warm as he looked at Will. 

”Good morning,” Will said. 

”How did you sleep?” Hannibal asked. 

”All right,” said Will. “I don’t remember dreaming. Do you remember differently?” 

”You once seemed a bit distressed, but it faded quickly,” said Hannibal. 

Will frowned. “You slept, right?” 

Hannibal smiled, holding out the mug. “I sleep lightly. Don’t think it a bother for me, Will. Shall we head downstairs or would you prefer breakfast in bed?” 

”You don’t seem like the eat-in-bed type,” said Will, bringing the mug up to his face. It smelled perfect. 

”I’m trying to spoil you, caro mio,” said Hannibal. “Breakfast in bed is part of the package.” 

Will laughed. “I’ll eat downstairs.” 

”Then, hold your drink steady.” 

”What?” 

Will choked back a yelp as he was picked up. He luckily managed not to spill hot coffee over either of them. He laughed again as he was carried out, blanket trailing behind until Will pulled it off him. “You enjoy carrying me around, don’t you?” 

”I enjoy keeping you close, yes,” said Hannibal. 

Will hid a smile by sipping at his coffee. He told himself the warmth he felt was from the drink. “You’ve got me concerned about how many bodies you lug around, Dr. Lecter.” 

”Not too many. My basement can only handle so much.” 

Will grinned. “I sure hope I’m not joining them.” 

Hannibal kissed his hair. “You’re far too good for the likes of them, darling.” 

Will was still smiling as he was deposited onto a chair by the table. Hannibal ran a hand down Will’s cheek and went to get their breakfast. 

An eggs Benedict was placed in front of him along with some sausage and sticks of toast. Hannibal sat across from him with a plate of the same and his own cup of coffee. 

”This is way more effort than is would ever be willing to expend on breakfast,” said Will. 

”That’s why I’m here,” said Hannibal. “I hope you enjoy it. Eat up.” 

Will very much enjoyed it. He was aware of the little noises he made as he ate, but Hannibal looked so pleased that he didn’t bother stopping. Hannibal seemed more focused on Will than his own food. Will filed that away to tease him about later. 

Oh. 

For some reason, it only really sunk in just then. That he had someone to tease, someone to kiss and cuddle and call when he needed comfort. Someone to provide comfort to, as well. 

Someone his. 

Will stretched a hand across the table, Hannibal took it into his with a curious look. “What is it, darling?” 

Will shook his head. “I just wanted to.” 

Hannibal smiled. Leaned down to kiss Will’s hand. “All right.” 

Will stopped up some egg yolks with a toast stick. He had the brief thought that this was dangerous. It would be all to easy to get used to this. The only things missing were his dogs. 

”Don’t you have appointments today?” Will asked. 

”Only in the afternoon,” Hannibal answered. “Do you have classes?” 

”Jack got a substitute to cover me for the whole week, I don’t wanna interrupt.” 

”If that’s the case, may I take you out to dinner?” 

”Out?” 

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hand. “I’d like to take you on a proper date.” 

Will put his fork down a bit too heavily, cheeks reddening as his heart decided to sprint. “Okay,” he rasped out. 

”Very good. You’ll have to wear a suit.” 

”Not surprising,” said Will. “It'll be the same one from the FBI party, though, since I won’t get the other suits until next Friday.” 

”That’s perfectly fine,” said Hannibal. “I’m glad you agreed to go with me, mano širdis.” 

”Distractions are good for me, right?” Will said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

”Exactly so.” 

  


=¤=

Will finished filling the dog bowls with water, trying to avoid getting any dog hair on his pants. Hannibal had texted some time ago that he’d left his house and Will knew he’d never text while driving, so now he was just waiting. He would’ve met Hannibal at his place, but Hannibal insisted on doing things “properly".

Will had given in. Only because Hannibal didn’t look willing to be swayed. Not because Will found it kinda endearing. 

A car came up to the house. 

It was hard to tell who was more excited: Will or his dogs. There was _definitely_ dog hair on his pants now as they all crowded around the door. He made them all sit down before leaving, coat draped over his arm, locking the door behind him. 

He ran over to Hannibal who was standing by his car. Ha gave him a quick kiss, giddy at the fact that he could. 

”Hello, mon chéri,” Hannibal greeted. “It’s only been a few hours, but I’ve missed you terribly.” 

”Me, too,” Will said. “I’m covered in dog hair.” 

”Worry not, I came prepared.” Hannibal ducked into the car and came back with a lint roller. Will laughed, but obediently stood still as it was passed over his legs. Hannibal helped him into his coat, kissing his neck in the process. There was a floatiness to Will’s thoughts that was pleasant instead of terrifying. 

"Where are you taking me?” Will asked once they were on the road. 

”One of the first restaurants I found myself truly enjoying when I moved here,” said Hannibal. “Their menu changes by the season as they source and serve only seasonal produce from all over the states, specializing in fish.” 

Will smiled. “Pulling out all the stops, huh?” 

”You deserve nothing but the best, darling.” 

Will suspected that by the end of the night, his cheeks would hurt from smiling so much. Feeling a bit daring, he took one of Hannibal’s hands off the wheel. Hannibal let him, tossing him a warm look before focusing again on the road. 

The drive was a bit long, but they passed it with conversation. Ripping apart a terribly written paper by someone who’d annoyed Will some time ago about an “interview" for the better part of a year; Will griping about his students' horrible typing/self-editing skills; Hannibal talking a little about some troubling patients, careful not to breach doctor-patient confidentiality. 

At one point, Hannibal mentioned Will’s lack of effort regarding his hair. Softly teasing, not actually complaining—Will had a theory that Hannibal _liked_ Will not doing anything with his hair since it gave him a reason to touch him, which Hannibal obviously enjoyed doing. So, Will told him that _maybe_ the next time they did something, he’d let Hannibal style his hair. 

Hannibal kissed Will’s hand in reply. 

The restaurant (another whose name Will felt no desire to attempt pronouncing) had a valet service and the kid who got the keys to the Bentley looked ecstatic while the other kid looked on in envy. Will had to stifle a laugh. 

They checked their coats in and were led to their table by a woman with a face made stiff by plastic surgery. She knew Hannibal (surprise, surprise) and kept sending Will curious looks. 

There were a lot of those looks. People’s eyes would go to Hannibal, light up with recognition, then slide to Will, looking at him with curiosity and…something else. Something that had him ducking his head and stepping closer to Hannibal. 

Once they were seated and the woman was gone (no menus since Hannibal had opted to go for the chef’s recommendations), Will looked up at Hannibal, head still bent. 

”I feel on display,” he said, almost accusatory. 

”Is it an unpleasant feeling?” Hannibal asked. 

It should, shouldn’t it? Will hated being stared at, had enough of it from the people at work, but the way those people and these people stared at him was different. 

_Those_ people stared at him either like he was a freak or a lab rat. Like they wanted him no where near them or like they wanted to poke and prod at him to see what he would do, how long it would take him to break. 

_These_ people stared at him like he was something to be envied. Because standing at Hannibal Lecter’s side gave him a certain kind of status. Nobody knew him here. He wasn’t Will Graham, profiler and freak extraordinaire, he was _that rather young man with Dr. Lecter_ and as far as they were concerned, that was all that mattered about him. 

It was _liberating_.

He shook his head. “It’s not unpleasant.” 

Hannibal cupped Will’s cheek, tilting his face up. “Chin up, then, darling.” 

Will nuzzled a little into Hannibal’s hand, feeling more people stare. If they were going to be talking about him anyway, he figured he might as well give them something to talk about. He kissed Hannibal’s wrist. 

Hannibal smiled, sharp canines peeking out between his lips. His eyes were lit up with affection and approval and desire and _possessiveness_ and—

Oh. 

_Oh._

Hannibal was enjoying Will being on display, too. Another pretty thing—that was his and only his—for him to show off. 

Will got a little hard in his pants. Pants that were way too skintight to be getting any kind of hard in. Hannibal’s smile turning into a smirk told him he knew of Will’s slight predicament. 

A waiter approached with their drinks and Hannibal pulled his hand away. Will dropped his eyes, but kept his chin up as ordered. 

Conversation, thankfully, went back to less arousing things, the tables were spaced far enough for them to be able to speak without worrying too much about being overheard. Hannibal spoke about a good seafood restaurant in Italy. Will gave him a look that made it obvious he knew that Hannibal was just trying to entice him into a vacation. 

Hannibal was unapologetic. 

Dessert rolled around: something with chocolate and pears topped with a disk of caramelized sugar, surrounded by a sauce that was set on fire in front them. Hannibal seemed to appreciate the theatricality. Will just tried not to get his eyebrows singed off. 

It was delicious, though. He’d noticed Hannibal carefully observing his reactions to each dish. He wouldn't be surprised if he was presented a Hannibal version of this same dessert sometime soon. 

"May I ask you something?” said Hannibal. 

Will hummed unquestioningly, spoon still in his mouth. 

”How do I compare?” 

Will tilted his head, not quite understanding. 

”To previous dates,” Hannibal elaborated. 

Will narrowed his eyes, pulling the spoon out of his mouth. He noted the way Hannibal’s eyes dropped to watch the drag of Will’s lips on the spoon. He licked it just to watch his eyes flash. 

”I’m hesitant to stroke your ego,” said Will, “but I have to admit: none of them hold a candle to this.” 

Hannibal smirked. “Good.” 

Will rolled his eyes. He caught sight of a few people being led to their own table, eyeing them. He looked back to Hannibal. “How are you going to explain this?” he asked. “What are you going to tell them when they ask about me?” 

”That depends on what you wish me to tell them,” said Hannibal. “Do you wish me to tell them your name? Your occupation?” 

”My name, sure, maybe not the specifics of my occupation,” said Will. “Say I’m a teacher.” 

Hannibal conceded with a nod. “And what do you wish me to call you?” He leaned forward. “A very unconventional patient, perhaps? Maybe a significant other? Shall I call myself your lover, Will? One whose company you enjoy even-slash-especially when naked?” 

”Well,” said Will, made brazen by good food and good drink and the heady rush of Hannibal’s _want_ , “you haven’t quite proven _that_ yet, have you?” 

”I will have to rectify that very soon, then, won’t I?” 

Will took a larger than polite sip of his wine. His mouth was dry. 

”Tell me, mon chéri, what has your experience been with male bedpartners?” 

_Oh, my fucking God._

”I’ve had two,” Will confessed. “Neither of them were particularly memorable.” 

”Were you pitching or catching?” 

This was inappropriate dinner conversation, wasn’t it? Especially in public? He took another swig of his wine, wishing it was whiskey. Hannibal, the bastard, looked amused. 

”Pitching.” 

”Is that your preference?” Hannibal asked.

Will shrugged. “Like I said: it wasn’t memorable. There was this one girl who took a strap to me a couple times.” 

”Was that more memorable?” 

Will half-shrugged, half-nodded. “She was more focused on my pleasure than hers, it made it easy to…feel good. The men were more concerned about themselves, so sometimes it was…difficult to…come.” His voice trailed off into a whisper. 

”So, you’re never had a man’s cock inside of you?” 

The words hit Will like a bolt of lightning, a quiet gasp leaving him as he shifted in his seat. He couldn’t look away from Hannibal. “No, I haven’t.” 

”I will be the first, then.” Hannibal raised his wine glass slightly as if in a toast. He didn’t look away from Will, either, as he took a sip. 

A variety of swear words sounded in Will’s skull. “Do _you_ have a preference?” 

"I have done both,” said Hannibal, “though I will confess a preference for pitching.” 

Adelmo had done a very, _very_ good job fitting his pants to his skin as Will was becoming very, _very_ intimately aware of. 

_What would Hannibal Lecter’s cock feel like inside of him?_

”Finish your dessert, Will,” said Hannibal. “Perhaps we can take a walk to cool down before heading to my home?” 

Hannibal needed to shut the fuck up before Will got them arrested for public indecency. Freddie Lounds would have a field day. 

”Sounds good.” 

Will wouldn’t say he sped through the rest of his food, just there was a bit (just a little tiny bit) less savoring than earlier. 

Hannibal looked smug as he flagged down a waiter for the bill. Will kicked him under the table. _Lightly_.

When the waiter arrived, Will looked at Hannibal with a raised brow. “Should I even bother asking you to split the bill?” 

Hannibal was _already_ handing his card to the waiter. “No, you should not.” 

Will sighed, more fond than exasperated. 

It was cold outside, but not too cold. Will was grateful for the warmth of the coat and Hannibal wrapping an arm around him, pulling him close to his side. Will had to laugh a little. “You’re very touchy.” 

”Does it bother you?” 

Will shook his head. “Nope.” 

”Good,” said Hannibal, squeezing Will’s hip. 

They didn’t talk much as they walked up the street. It was an upscale neighborhood with upscale shops, not somewhere Will would ever go to. There were other, fancier dressed people wandering around, doing some early holiday gift browsing. 

It occurred to him that he’d have to get Hannibal something for Christmas. Did he even celebrate it? Will, himself, didn’t much care about Christmas. His dad had tried hard to make Christmas good for Will and, to be fair, he largely succeeded, but after he’d died, Christmas became just another day, usually preceded by forced social interaction in the form of faculty parties. 

He thinks he’d enjoy Christmas with Hannibal. 

It was because he was thinking of his Dad that he stared a little— _just a little_ —too long as they passed a watch store. 

Hannibak stopped him in front of the window. Will tried to glare at him, affection making him unable to. “This is _exactly_ why were taking this walk, isn’t it?” Will accused. 

Hannibal didn’t even try to deny it. “You were once so adamant I not get you a watch. What has changed?” 

Will considered telling him that he wasn’t trying to get Hannibal to buy him a watch. He ultimately decided that it would be pointless. He shrugged “I was thinking of my Dad.” 

”What about him?” 

”He used to have this watch,” Will began. “Stainless steel and black leather with a pattern of curving lines. He got it from his dad and he was gonna give it to me. Then, he got mugged. Thankfully, he didn’t have a lot of money on him and they didn’t hurt him too much, but they took the watch and his belt, too. He was pretty upset about it, which made me upset about it, which made him even sadder. That was a bad week for both of us.” 

Hannibal leaned closer to the store window, looking at the intricate designs in the leather of the displayed watches. “Would you like to get one in his honor?” 

Will thought about it. About how sad his Dad had been. How much he’d apologized to Will for losing it as if it had been his fault. Will thinks he would’ve liked if Will got one like it for his sake. He wonders if he would’ve liked Hannibal. 

”My Dad would’ve liked you, I think,” Will mused. Hannibal tilted his head and Will continued: “Maybe not at first, but he would’ve grown to like you.” 

”I’m glad you think so,” said Hannibal, sounding genuinely pleased. “Shall we get him a watch?” 

Will bit his lip. Nodded. 

”Tell me,” said Hannibal. 

Of fucking course, he’d make Will say it. His heart was racing like he was about to do something he shouldn’t. It was one thing to let Hannibal buy him things, another thing entirely to _ask_ Hannibal to buy him things. 

He slipped a hand into Hannibal’s. “Buy me a watch, please?” 

Hannibal brought Will’s hand up to his lips. “As you wish, my darling.” 

Will’s cock twitched. 

He was brought inside the shop, the man inside trying not to stare at them while also kind of obviously staring at them. Will wondered what he thought of the conversation he’d seen. What did he think their relationship was? 

”Which one?” 

Will focused on the array of watches Hannibal had led him to—all the same line as those in the window that caught his eye. He chose one that looked a lot like the one his Dad had had: it was a silvery metal, probably platinum, the clock face done in textured gold with Roman numeral for the numbers, the straps black leather with a simple pattern of twisting lines. Hannibal had the store clerk get it, hand returning to Will’s hip. 

The clerk brought out another of the same watch still in its box. He ran through its specifications as they (mostly Hannibal) checked it over for scratches or mistakes. 

”We also do engravings, though since it’s so late, you’ll have to pick it up tomorrow,” he ended, looking between them. 

Hannibal glanced at Will who shook his head. He turned back to the clerk. “This will do. May he wear it out?” 

”Please, go ahead.” 

Instead of picking up the watch, Will presented his wrist to Hannibal. His polite smile turned into something warmer as he secured the watch around Will’s wrist, making sure it wasn’t too snug. He kissed Hannibal’s cheek. The poor clerk looked overwhelmed and that was before Hannibal handed over his card. 

”Can we go back to your place after this?” Will whispered after the clerk had rushed off to finish the transaction. 

Hannibal pulled him closer. “Of course.” 

He kissed Hannibal’s cheek again, closer to the corner of his lips, lingering a little before pulling back. A flash of heat went through Hannibal’s eyes, making Will’s knees feel weak. 

It was a short walk back to the restaurant and they only had to wait a couple minutes before the Bentley rolled up. Hannibal got Will into the car first before getting in himself. 

The drive to Hannibal’s was, thankfully, short, the air charged between them. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the car. He was sure Hannibal could feel his pulse racing in the hand he held. 

They got to the dark house and Will hadn’t even unbuttoned his coat before he was being pushed against the door and kissed. 

He moaned, getting his hands in Hannibal’s hair because he’d never ever get tired of messing that up. 

Hannibal pulled back. “Do you want this, Will?” 

”Yes,” Will panted. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

Hannibal nipped his lip. “Tell me.” 

Will got annoyed. He slid his hands down to Hannibal’s hips and rubbed his hardness against his— _oh, God, he was about to have that **inside** of him_—and growled: “I want you to _fuck me_ , Hannibal Lecter.” 

Hannibal grinned, sharp and hungry. 

”As you wish.” 

Will gasped as the coat was pushed off him and he was picked up, automatically wrapping his legs around Hannibal. He whimpered when he felt the erection against his ass. 

He got his shoes off as he was carried off, then started on Hannibal’s vest and shirt, the tie could be dealt with later. He licked up Hannibal’s neck, loving the shudder that ran through him. He bit gently at Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal squeezed his ass. 

They reached the bedroom while Will was pushing the shirt and vest off Hannibal’s broad shoulders. It fluttered to the floor as Will was dropped onto the bed. Hannibal started on Will’s pants so Will yanked his own jacket off and flung his tie somewhere. His underwear came off with his pants and he moaned as his hard cock was exposed to the air. 

Left in just his socks and shirt, Will was pressed against the bed, Hannibal getting on top of him, tie fluttering over Will's chest. Will eagerly spread his legs to make room. He cried out as Hannibal rubbed his still clothed cock against Will’s. 

Hannibal kissed him, fucking his tongue in and out of Will’s mouth. Will’s hands moved all over Hannibal’s body, removing his tie, groping at the hard planes of muscle, petting through soft chest hair. 

”Hannibal,” Will moaned as Hannibal sat up. Will’s shirt was ripped open, mother of pearl buttons flying. “Hey—"

”I’ll buy you a new one,” said Hannibal dismissively before taking one of Will’s nipples into his mouth. 

He arched his back, hands again in Hannibal’s hair, embarrassing noises escaping his mouth as his nipple was sucked and licked and nibbled on. He couldn’t recall his nipples ever being this sensitive, but it had been a while. 

”Hannibal, please,” he gasped out. 

"What do you want, darling?” Hannibal asked, slightly slurred as his lips were still on Will’s chest. 

”Fuck me, please,” Will begged. 

Hannibal smiled. Kissed over Will’s racing heart. Reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out a tube of lubricant. Will spread his legs more, breathing a little harder. 

”Turn over, mon chéri, it will be more comfortable for you,” Hannibal said, pouring lube over his fingers. 

Will didn’t want to look away from Hannibal, but obeyed. He got onto his hands and knees. A hand touched his hip. 

”Are you ready?” 

”Yes.” 

Slick fingers rubbed over his hole, only a little cool. After a moment, one began pressing in and Will made himself relax, trying to ease the way in. The stretch as Hannibal’s finger slid inside him was as unusual as he remembered, but not unpleasant. When Hannibal started gently teasing it in and out— _that_ felt nice. 

His shoulders sank onto the bed as another finger started pushing in next to the first. He whined a little at the increased burn, but still pushed his hips back for more. God, he wanted more. Hannibal scissored his fingers and Will moaned. 

”Hannibal,” he groaned. _”Hannibal.”_

Hannibal kissed the crease between his ass and thigh and poured more lube over Will’s hole. Will jumped at the cold. Shuddered as it trickled over his balls. 

”Oh. Yes,” he moaned as another finger sank in, getting more lube inside. It felt like too much as first, but Will’s body adjusted, aided by the extra slick. He resumed riding Hannibal’s fingers, whining. 

”Beautiful,” Hannibal whispered. 

”Hannibal,” said Will. “I’m ready, please, I need you inside me.” 

”Let me get a condom, darling.” 

Will huffed. “Do you have to?” he asked, not wanting anything between them. “It’s been ages since I had sex and I doubt you’ve been doing anything stupid.” 

”It’s better to be safe, caro mio,” said Hannibal. “I can schedule an appointment to check us both over as soon as you’d like.” 

”Tomorrow,” Will demanded. 

Hannibal chuckled. “As you wish.” 

Will heard the crinkling of foil and looked over his shoulder. His mouth went dry. 

_God._

Hannibal’s cock was framed by his hastily pushed down pants and underwear—jutting out proudly from his body, uncut and long and thick and hard and Will _needed_ it. 

Hannibal rolled the condom on and slicked his cock with lube. He pressed the bulbous head against Will’s stretched hole, making him moan. 

”Ready?” 

”I _said_ I was,” Will griped. 

”So impatient,” Hannibal remarked. Will didn’t get to say anything before Hannibal was pushing in. 

_”Ahhh…”_

It was _definitely_ more of a stretch than Hannibal’s fingers, but the burn was _glorious_. Will pushed back for more and Hannibal grabbed his hips, stilling him. Will whined. “Please, Hannibal.” 

”Shush, mano širdis,” said Hannibal, voice strained. 

”More,” Will demanded. 

Hannibal slid another inch in. Will moaned. 

Hannibal began thrusting, pushing in a bit more each time. Will made no effort to hold back any of his noises. Especially when Hannibal began hitting his prostate. Especially when Hannibal just kept going in and in and _in_ …

Hannibal finally bottomed out, his hips against Will’s ass. Will felt so stretched, so filled, so _fucking good._

”Move, please, please, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal said something in another language that Will didn’t quite catch. He pulled out and Will couldn’t stop himself from clenching down, trying to keep him inside. Hannibal growled, hands tightening on Will’s hips. 

Hannibal shoved back in, pushing Will forward. Will cried out and begged for more. 

Hannibal’s quick, rhythmic movements had him scrabbling for purchase, fisting the sheets. He kept shifting the angle, looking—

”Ah!” 

Hannibal rammed against Will’s prostate, Will’s cries increasing in pitch and volume as pleasure pounded through his veins. 

Will’s shirt was pulled down and he was yanked up against Hannibal’s chest. The angle made it easier to abuse his prostate and Will felt tears pricking at his eyes just from how good it felt. An arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him close and still, Hannibal’s other hand playing with Will’s nipples. 

Will turned his head, looking for a kiss, managing to meet Hannibal’s half-closed eyes—

_Oh. Hello, there. What do we have here?_

Hiding in Hannibal’s eyes was _something_. Something with teeth and claws and a bottomless hunger. Something that looked at Will with a want to consume him. Something beastly. 

The nails digging into his skin and the slightly too sharp nips along his shoulders were little bits if the beast peeking through. 

Maybe Will should be scared. Probably. But how could he be scared when both man and beast looked at him with affection and want? 

”Please,” Will rasped out, seeing the beast shiver as he begged. He wanted it to come out and play. “Please, more, please.” 

Hannibal groaned and Will was falling forward, catching himself on the headboard and gripping it. Hannibal’s hands went back to Will’s hips, holding tight enough for Will to definitely have bruises in the morning. 

_Good._

Hannibal fucked into him even harder. The filthy sound of Hannibal’s cock squelching in and out of his hole and the obscene slap of his balls against Will’s mixed with their grunts and moans and Will’s desperate cries of Hannibal’s name. 

It was _perfection._

”Come for me, Will,” Hannibal said, accent thick. “Just like this.” 

”I can’t,” Will sobbed. “Hannibal, I can’t.” He tried to bring a hand down to his cock, untouched this whole time, but Hannibal caught it, pinned it back on the headboard. 

_”No,”_ Hannibal snarled. 

_”Please.”_

_”No.”_

Will moaned weakly. He felt good. _So, so good._ He was so close to coming, but he couldn’t. Drool was dripping down onto the pillows from his mouth, open as it was from his moans and cries. He was pretty sure there were tears mixed in there, too. 

He was so hard. 

_”Please, Hannibal.”_

”You’ll come like this or you won’t come all, my darling.” He started sucking a bruise onto the bend between neck and shoulder and Will sobbed. 

Hannibal kept hitting his prostate unerringly, driving Will higher and higher. He finished with the bruise and licked up to Will’s ear, biting the top of it. 

That set Will off and he screamed as he came. Finally, Hannibal put a hand on Will’s cock, stroking him, prolonging the pleasure…too much. 

”Hannibal,” Will begged, overstimulation beginning to hurt him. “Please…”

”Just a little longer, darling,” Hannibal promised, voice a growl. His thrusts became erratic, barely pulling out before slamming back in. 

Will was definitely crying now, it definitely hurt now, but, _God, it still felt so fucking good._

”Come in me,” said Will. “Please, come in me, Hannibal.” 

_”Will."_

He felt Hannibal’s cock twitching inside of him as he came, filling up the condom instead of Will, but that was fine for now. He kept thrusting a little more, drawing it out for himself, hand still loosely wrapped around Will’s soft cock. 

They caught their breath for a moment, then Hannibal pulled out, getting a whimper out of Will. Will just collapsed onto a spit and tear stained pillow, content to sleep as he was, but staying awake because he knew Hannibal would want to clean up. 

”Can I call myself your lover now, Will?” 

Will laughed, managing to turn just enough to meet Hannibal’s eyes. The beast was hidden away again. “You can call yourself that, yes.” 

Hannibal looked almost unbearably smug. “Good.” 

Will rolled his eyes. 

”We have to take a shower, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”If you think I can stand, you’re insane,” Will replied. 

”I wasn’t asking you to.” Hannibal stripped Will down the rest of the way, carefully placing his cufflinks and watch on the nightstand. Hannibal got his own pants off, too, and picked Will up. How in the world he still had the energy, Will had no idea. 

He was sat on a bench around the walls of the shower, wincing when his ass made contact. Hannibal hummed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” 

Ridiculous. “It’s not like I’m complaining,” said Will. “You don’t need to be careful with me. I know you were holding back earlier.” He squeezed Hannibal’s hand, quietly confessing: “I kinda like that it hurt a little near the end.” 

Hannibal’s eyes flashed, the beast stretching. “Dangerous words to say.”

”Wanna hear something else ‘dangerous'?” Will asked. “Aren’t you curious why I wasn’t wearing a watch today?” 

”I have been wondering,” said Hannibal. 

Will pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s, ass smarting as he shifted. “The same reason I almost didn’t wear underwear tonight,” he whispered, tired heart still managing to rabbit in his chest. “I didn’t want to wear anything that wasn’t from you.” 

The beast flexed its claws, Hannibal's nails pricking at Will’s thighs. “Very dangerous words.” 

Will grinned. 

Hannibal slid his hands up to Will’s hips. “Tell me: what underwear would you like me to get you?” 

Will pretended to think about it. “I want you to get something you want me to wear.” 

Will wondered how he could’ve missed the beast in Hannibal’s eyes before. It seemed so obvious now. 

”What game are you playing, my dear?” 

”Maybe I’ll tell you someday,” said Will. 

Hannibal chuckled. He got up to turn on the shower and start washing them both. Will just enjoyed the pampering, squirming a little when Hannibal cleaned the more sensitive parts of him. 

He was beginning to fall asleep again when he was given a toothbrush already with toothpaste on it. He couldn’t claim to have brushed his teeth very well, but he managed something. He was grateful Hannibal hadn’t tried do it for him. 

Will was dried off, bundled into a fluffy robe and carried to an armchair by a window as Hannibal changed the sheets. 

He was asleep before Hannibal finished.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all remember me talking about fucking with the timeline? Yeah, here we go.  
> Also, as I was planning this fic (months and months ago) I didn't anticipate for there to be as much smut as it eventually acquired?? I hope y'all don't mind.  
> Also also, fair warning: there's a slight mention of blood while these two are having sex and like...does that count as blood play? I don't think it does because it's such a small thing but like?? Should I tag it? Please let me know.  
> Enjoy the chapter!!

Will’s Monday didn’t begin well. He woke up around 4 a.m. because of a nightmare and struggled to think before grabbing his phone. He’d dialed Hannibal automatically. He’d managed to calm Will down, but Will had given him a firm no when he’d offered to come over. He fell asleep again with Hannibal reciting him more foreign literature. He’d slept a little past his alarm and was five minutes late to his class which his students were sadly well accustomed to.

Now it was lunch time and Will kinda wished he'd let Hannibal come by just because he’d definitely have made Will something than cafeteria sandwiches. 

Not that he’d be _telling_ Hannibal that anytime soon (or ever). He’d like Will getting spoiled by his cooking too much. 

”Will.” 

He looked behind, finding Alana and feeling a faint déjà vu. “Hey,” he greeted, getting his sandwiches. 

”Headed back to your office?” she asked. 

”I get the feeling you’re not about to let me,” said Will. 

”Well, if you’re busy…” Alana trailed off. 

Will smiled a little. “Where are you sitting?” 

He was brought to a table where Price and Zeller were arguing about some sports team, so focused on their debate that they didn’t even seem to notice his and Alana’s arrival. 

”You’ve been pretty busy lately,” said Alana. “How are you doing?” 

”I’m all right,” Will replied. “Coping.” 

”Hopefully you’re gonna get a bit of a break,” Alana said. 

”If people could refrain from killing other people in very creative ways…” said Will. He didn’t think it was going to happen. 

Alana’s answering smile showed she didn’t either. “You’ve got Hannibal helping you, though.” 

Will bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah.” 

A tray dropped onto the table, hard enough that a piece of lettuce jumped out of its bowl to land on the table. Beverly placed her hands on either side of the tray and leaned towards Will. “I’ve got two questions for you, Graham.” 

”Okay?” 

”One: where did you get that watch; and two: does it have anything to do with why your shirt’s been buttoned up all the way?” 

Will reached up to touch the spot on the base of his neck where Hannibal’s suck bruise still hadn’t faded, accidentally using the same hand with the watch. His cheeks flamed, eyes flitting away. 

”Ha!” Beverly cried, victoriously. “I knew you’d start banging Dr. Sexy soon!” 

Will spluttered. “What?” 

”Ooh, that’s a good one, Will,” said Price. “It’s a new release; nice and pricey.” 

Will didn’t actually know how much the watch had cost. That was Hannibal’s problem. 

”Who is ‘Dr. Sexy'?” Zeller asked. 

Beverly smacked his arm as she finally sat down. “Dr. Lecter, duh! Just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes. The best mates have the best plumage and the man’s got some wild suits. Is he any good?” 

”I don’t think that’s how birds work,” said Will. 

”That blush says ‘yes',” Price stage whispered. Zeller looked like he was trying to figure out what birds had to do with anything. 

”Woo! Nice job, Graham!” 

Will regretted getting out of bed. 

”You and Hannibal?” Alan asked. 

”It’s a somewhat recent development,” Will mumbled. 

”Is that legal?” Zeller said. 

Beverly waved a hand. “He’s not an official patient, it’s fine. Now. When exactly did this happen?” 

”It was the night of the FBI party, wasn’t it?” said Alana, a teasing smile appearing on her face. “When I found you two in the garden. I _thought_ Hannibal’s hair was too messy.” 

Will’s flush deepened. 

”You snuck out to go kiss under the moonlight? _Disgusting_ ,” Beverly said, grinning. 

”It seems like just the kind of romanticism Dr. Lecter would be into,” said Price. 

”Okay, okay,” said Beverly. “You’ve been together around two weeks and you haven’t told anyone?” 

Will picked at his sandwich wrapping. “I didn’t feel the need to.” 

”Uh-huh, sure, you can earn my forgiveness by answering something for me,” said Beverly. 

Will narrowed his eyes at her. 

She leaned towards him again. “What’s something about him you can complain about? Give me something juicy.” 

Will thought about it as they all stared at him for an answer. He figured talking about how he wanted Hannibal to not hold back during sex wouldn’t be such a good idea. He had no desire to discuss his sex life with his co-workers. 

”I’m slightly concerned he’s about to buy me a boat,” Will said. 

”I fail to see why that’s an issue,” said Beverly. “Or how it even came up.” 

”We went somewhere—“ _to get tested_ ”—on Saturday and I mentioned how it’s been a while since I went saltwater fishing,” Will explained. “It’s an issue because I already have a boat.” 

”Then, tell him that,” Zeller suggested. 

Will shook his head. “If I just say it out of the blue, he’ll assume I _was_ asking for a new boat.” 

”Or that you want, like, a yacht to attach it to,” said Price. “Is that a thing people do?” 

Will blanked. “I didn’t think of that.” 

”If you _do_ decide to get a yacht, tell me.” Price patted Will’s arm. “I’ve got a yacht catalogue.” 

”Why do you have a yacht catalogue?” Zeller asked. 

”Because I like to dream,” Price replied. 

”You know what,” Beverly said. “You should make him get you one of those mega-yachts that are like mansions on the waves.” 

Will stared at her, incredulous. Alana was hiding a smile behind her hand. “I’m not gonna do that,” said Will. 

”Why not? Take advantage of your circumstances, Graham!” 

”No.” 

”Yes!” 

Will grabbed his sandwiches. “I’m leaving.” 

Alana’s laugh finally escaped her as Beverly yelled: “Get the yacht, Will! Make your sugar daddy get you the yacht!” 

Will just kept walking, doing his damndest to not meet anyone’s eyes. 

  


=¤=

Will’s Tuesday started better. His first lecture wasn’t until 11, so he spent some time playing with his dogs after making himself some eggs. He’d sent a picture of that to Hannibal who had expressed his approval and told him to also eat some fruits or vegetables. Will had replied with a picture of a granola bar next to an apple. He could hear Hannibal’s sigh from miles away even as he texted back that that was fine. 

Will thought it cute. 

While throwing sticks for his dogs, an unfamiliar car arrived. He calmed his dogs down, not relaxing himself until a woman came out in a familiar courier uniform. She wasn’t bothered by some of the dogs storming her, in fact, trying to pet them as best she could with a box in her hands. 

Will jogged over, excitement rising in him. 

”Are you Mr. Will Graham?” the courier asked. 

”That’s me,” said Will. 

”Please sign here, sir!” 

Will did so and took the box, making no comment as she spent a few minutes petting his dogs. She straightened up, smiling. “Sorry, my apartment won’t let in dogs unless they’re service animals.” 

”It’s all right.” 

”Well, have a good day, sir,” she said. 

”Have a good day,” Will repeated. 

He waited until she’d gone before leaving his dogs to run around so he could open the package. He felt like a kid on Christmas morning in a cheesy movie. 

He got on the bed, using a pair of scissors in his nightstand to deal with the tape on the box. Inside, past layers of tissues were ten pairs of boxer briefs. 

Will was lightheaded from all his blood gathering in his cheeks and cock. His hands shook slightly as he took out each one. 

Seven of them were in solid colors made of wonderfully soft fabric; the elastics had a bit of a sheen to them. The last three…the last three were obviously where Hannibal had had some fun. Will chewed on his lip. 

One was white with sheer lace panels on the hips. Another was blue fabric, the back partially see through with lace along the waistband. The last…was a different style than the others, cut more like women’s underwear but with room for a penis, made of a shiny, satiny, black fabric with a black lace overlay. Will looked a little closer. He shook his head. 

_Paisley_ lace. Of course. 

He remembered Giulia's offer and violently pushed the memory away. He put the underwear in his dresser, keeping one out, flushing, to wear for the day. 

His appointment with Hannibal tonight was going to be _something_.

He wasn’t quite expecting to see Hannibal much earlier in the day as they stood over the corpse of a woman who’d been stuffed into a horse. 

Will massaged his temples. He shifted a bit closer to Hannibal, trying not to be too obvious, since Beverly was around. 

”Human beings are such peculiar things,” said Hannibal. 

”You’re telling me,” said Will. 

Hannibal gave a quick, comforting touch to Will’s back Will scrounged up a smile for him. It quickly disappeared as Jack started ordering everyone out so Will could do his job. 

He sighed. 

He walked once around the edges of the stall, taking everything in and stopped by the entrance. He closed his eyes. Let the pendulum fall. 

  


Will was breathing heavily and rubbing at his forehead again when he opened his eyes. He turned his head, about to call for Hannibal before he remembered he probably shouldn’t do that. He popped an aspirin into his mouth. 

”Jack,” Will said. 

Jack came back in with his team and Hannibal. Hannibal returned to Will’s side and Will said a mental _fuck it_ and stepped close enough for their shoulders to brush. 

Jack looked at him, still a bit cold from Will attempting to quit. “What did you see, Will?” 

Will took a deep breath. Looked at the dead woman. Looked away. “Whoever killed her…she wasn’t put here to be desecrated. She was put here by someone who cares about her, someone who wanted to bring her back.” 

”Rebirth,” said Hannibal. “The veterinarian did say the mare was recently pregnant.” 

”With a stillborn foal.” Will nodded. 

”Did they really think it would work?” Beverly asked. 

”Like she’d just pop out and do the cancan?” Price added. 

Will shook his head. “Not like that, but…something.” 

”Did the person who put her here kill her?” Jack asked. 

Will shrugged. “Maybe. But if they did, not on purpose.” 

“Or perhaps our hopeful necromancer simply stumbled upon her body and, stricken with grief, attempted to bring her back," said Hannibal. 

”That's another possibility," Will confirmed. 

Jack nodded once. “We’ll start looking into her acquaintances. Are you joining us for the autopsy tomorrow, Will?” 

Will knew better than to say no. "Sure.”

”Dr. Lecter?” 

”If my schedule allows, I would be happy to join you,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ll send you the details once I have them,” said Jack. “You can go now, if you’d like." 

”D'you mind taking me with you? I came with Jack,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal smiled. “I don’t mind at all.” 

Will got permission from Jack to leave and headed out with Hannibal. He ignored Beverly waggling her eyebrows at him. Easy enough to do with people rushing around and the usual quiet efficiency of a crime scene. Will couldn’t wait to leave. 

He got into Hannibal’s car, closing his eyes as Hannibal began driving back to Quantico, jolted slightly by the bump separating driveway and road. 

He blindly reached out for Hannibal’s hand and sighed when Hannibal caught it. He gave Will’s hand a kiss before resting them both on the center console. 

”I was hoping today would go better,” Will said. 

”This is only one part of your day, Will,” Hannibal retorted. “A day that hasn’t yet ended, at that. It could still get better.” 

”I guess,” Will conceded. 

”Have you had lunch yet?” Hannibal asked and Will shook his head. “Then, perhaps, we can begin with that if you’re not busy.” 

Will just nodded. “Substitute's handling things. Starting to wonder if I should just let them handle everything.” 

”You’re not so easily replaced, Will.” 

He opened an eye to look at Hannibal. “Maybe to you.” 

”No one could ever take your place in my life, mano širdis,” said Hannibal. 

Will swallowed. Closed his eye. Turned his head towards the window. “Wake me up whenever we get to where we’re eating.” 

Hannibal chuckled. 

  


=¤=

After lunch at an authentic French bistro, Will got dropped off at Quantico since Hannibal had patients to get to. Will did some grading and lesson planning, whiling away time until his own appointment. 

It was maybe a little weird to have appointments with one’s lover, but Will didn’t think either of them were particularly normal, so, who cared, really? 

At Hannibal’s office, he was helped out of his coat, then he went over to one of the windows. 

”What shall we talk about, Will?” 

Will took a deep breath. “I’m worried.” 

”What about?” Hannibal asked. 

”Whoever put that woman in the horse.” 

”Why so?” 

Will wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen to them if they get caught. They weren’t trying to hurt anyone, there was no malice in the scene, no desire to hurt, no joy, just…fear and worry and…love.” 

”Is our necromancer in love with the woman?” said Hannibal. 

Will shrugged. “I don’t know about _in_ love, but there was a lot of affection and care. And don’t call them a necromancer, it’s not really the right term and it sounds like a title Freddie Lounds would give someone. 

”Why is ‘necromancer' incorrect terminology?” 

He turned to face Hannibal who was seated in his usual chair. “Necromancers bring people back so they can control them, right? To use them as puppets for their own gain? Isn’t that what most people think? That wasn’t what they were doing, they wanted to…bring her back to life, just so she could be alive. They didn’t want anything from her but for her to be alive.” 

”They thought themselves a sort of mystical healer,” said Hannibal. 

”Yeah, exactly,” Will said, relieved. “They just wanted to talk to her again.” 

”Closer to the more traditional abilities of a necromancer,” Hannibal said. “To summon the spirits of the dead in order to communicate with them.” 

”I get the feeling you only said that because you didn’t like that I defined necromancer wrong.” 

Hannibal’s smile was all the answer Will needed. He rolled his eyes. “Would you bring someone back from the dead if you could?” 

Something flashed in Hannibal’s eyes too quickly to define. “Not permanently,” he said. “It would be nice, perhaps, to say a proper goodbye to my parents, but I have adjusted to life without them. I see no reason to change that.” 

”Yeah,” Will agreed. “That’s what I would do, too. There’s no need to drag them back from wherever they are.” 

They fell silent, Hannibal apparently content to let Will stew in his thoughts for the moment. Eventually, Will pushed off the wall and wandered over to stand by Hannibal. 

”Distract me?” 

”I have something that will make you quite happy, I think,” said Hannibal. He stood and went to his desk. He held up pieces of paper he got from a drawer. “Our blood results have returned.” 

Will would’ve been embarrassed at how he practically _ran_ to Hannibal, but he honestly didn’t care. “And?” 

”All negatives.” 

Will grinned. “Told you so.” 

”So you did,” Hannibal agreed. He handed the papers to Will, but he barely glanced at them before dropping them back into the drawer they’d come from. Hannibal looked up from the resolutely closed drawer and back at Will. He cocked his head. “What do you plan to do now, Will?” 

”Well, that depends, Dr. Lecter,” Will got up on the middle of the (now that he was looking) suspiciously uncluttered desk and pulled Hannibal between his legs. “What’s your stance on fucking in your office?” 

”That would be terribly unprofessional,” said Hannibal, but his hands were going up and down Will’s thighs. 

Will started undoing Hannibal’s tie. “Shame.” 

”You are, however, the exception to many of my rules.” 

Will grinned and used the ends of Hannibal’s tie to drag him in for a kiss. He immediately lost all his breath as Hannibal licked in and ran his tongue all over Will’s mouth. It was all he could do keep enough of his wits to unbutton Hannibal’s vest and pull his shirt out of his pants. 

It was so, so, _so_ easy to let go with Hannibal. He never had to worry about getting lost. He could surrender to sensation without losing himself. 

Or, at least, losing himself in a way he didn’t want to. 

He moaned when Hannibal cupped his cock. Had to pull back to gasp and writhe as he started rubbing. 

Will whined. He reached for Hannibal’s pants wanting them out of the way. He let out a curse when he finally had his hands on Hannibal’s cock. He pushed Hannibal’s pants and underwear down just low enough to free that perfect cock, stroking it. Hannibal shuddered and thrust into Will’s hold. 

_God_ , wasn’t that a fucking power trip: _Hannibal Lecter_ helpless to what Will brought out of him. 

How much of the beast could he lure out this time? 

Hannibal swatted Will’s hands out of the way and got to work on Will’s jeans. He paused upon seeing what he wore underneath. Will grinned. He’d thought to be daring and wear the black ones. 

”Like them?” he teased. “My lover got them for me, I like him a lot.” 

”He has very good taste,” said Hannibal. He knelt to get Will’s shoes off and fully remove his jeans. “Though that was obvious already, seeing as he has you.” 

”I can’t quite tell who you’re complimenting,” Will said. 

Hannibal just smiled. He stood and took Will’s cock out of his underwear. He got both their cock in his hands, stroking them together. 

Will groaned, unable to look away, unable to stop himself from thrusting, rubbing against Hannibal’s cock. 

It wasn’t like Hannibal was _that_ much bigger than him. It was just that Hannibal was _noticeably _bigger and it drove Will just a little bit insane.__

____

____

The fact that there was a slight distance to travel between their bases touching and their cockheads touching was…Will whimpered, bucking up harder. He mouthed along Hannibal’s neck, undoing just enough of his shirt buttons to pet through his chest hair. 

Honestly, he’d never found chest hair attractive before Hannibal. Now, he wanted rashes all over his body from it scratching against his skin. 

Hannibal removed a hand to rummage through a drawer. Will glanced over as he pulled out a familiar tube. He laughed. 

”Should I be concerned about why you have that in your office, Dr. Lecter?” Will asked. 

”I had hoped I would need it after showing you the results,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed again. 

Hannibal gently pushed Will until he was lying back on the desk. Will lifted his hips so Hannibal could get his underwear off, crying out as Hannibal took Will’s cock into his mouth. Warm and wet, sucking a bit as he bobbed up and down, talented tongue rubbing against thick veins and dipping into the slit. 

Will tried not to squirm too much, hands gripping the edge of the table by his head. He gave up on that when a slick finger started pushing into him. 

He was moaning continuously as he pushed back against Hannibal’s finger then arched up into his mouth. Hannibal didn’t seem to mind, encouraging Will with a hand on his hip. 

Finally, there were three fingers in him, teasing his prostate but never applying any real pressure. He reached down and tugged at Hannibal’s hair a bit more harshly than intended. “Hannibal, please,” Will pleaded. 

Hannibal slowly drew himself off of Will’s cock. “Tell me what you want, darling.” 

”Fuck me, Hannibal, please.” 

”As you wish, caro mio.” 

Hannibal straightened up, wrapping one of Will’s legs around his waist and hooking the other over his shoulder. He stroked his cock a few times, slicking it, before pressing—wonderfully bare—against Will’s wet hole. 

_”Yes.”_

Hannibal was being so _careful_ with him again, slowly entering Will. He was grateful for the leverage Hannibal had given him, using his legs to pull Hannibal close and get all of that cock inside him in one go. 

He wondered, belatedly, as he screamed his pleasure, if Hannibal’s office was soundproof. 

”Stubborn, impatient darling,” Hannibal growled. 

Will managed a quiet laugh. 

Hannibal started thrusting, going hard and fast right away, punching groans and moans and broken cries of Hannibal’s name out of Will’s mouth. Drool leaked out of the corner of his lip. 

Hannibal licked it off before plunging his tongue into Will’s mouth, swallowing each sound he made. His cock felt so _fucking_ good, just bare skin on bare skin and just the _thought_ of it had Will whimpering, hands going to Hannibal’s hair. 

He bit Hannibal’s lip when his prostate was hit and pushed Hannibal away at the taste of blood. 

”Fuck, so-orry,” Will said. He licked a drop of blood off his own lip, Hannibal’s eyes flashing as he followed the movement. He slammed against Will’s prostate harder. The beast was growling. 

_Come play with me._

He stretched his neck, taking Hannibal’s lip into his mouth, sucking at the still bleeding wound, running his tongue over it. 

Hannibal got a hand into Will’s hair, yanking him away. His head hit the table with a dull thump and Will moaned. Hannibal separated from him enough to get a hand between them and wrap it around Will’s cock. 

Will cried out, hands fisting in Hannibal’s hair. “Fuck, _Hannibal_.”

The combined attack on his cock and prostate pushed him closer to his climax, eyes fluttering shut. A stream of _Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal_ left his lips. His hands wandered over Hannibal’s body, one settling on his ass, gripping the firm muscle, pulling him closer. Hannibal’s thrusts had gone short and fast, drilling Will’s sweet spot. 

”Come, Hannibal,” Will begged. “Fill me up, please. Please, Hannibal, please.” 

_”Will,”_ Hannibal groaned. His hand moved faster, firmer up and down Will’s leaking cock. 

Will arched his back, shouting as he came. Hannibal followed soon after, burying his cock as deep as he could in Will’s ass. Will trembled as he felt more fluid fill him. 

”So good,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal chuckled. He pressed kisses to Will’s neck as they came down from their high. He let Will’s legs go, letting them relax. 

Will shifted his hips, feeling Hannibal’s soft cock and the squelch of semen inside of him. 

_God_ , he had Hannibal’s come inside of him. 

He sighed as Hannibal lazily sucked a bruise onto Will’s neck on the opposite side of the first which was slowly fading. He tilted his head, allowing him instead of stopping him. 

”Are you pleased with what you’ve gotten, Will?” Hannibal asked. 

”Very,” said Will. “Kiss me, please?” 

Hannibal obeyed, separating from Will’s neck to press their lips together, petting through Hannibal’s hair. Will wrapped his tired arms around broad shoulders. 

A thought occurred to him. 

He slid a hand down to Hannibal’s chest, over his heart as he pushed him away just enough for their eyes to meet. Flickers of the beast still shone through. 

”Would you bring me back?” Will asked, softly. “If I died, would you bring me back?” 

Hannibal cupped his face, thumb running over Will’s cheekbone. The beast bared its fangs. “No. I have no intention of letting you die before me, Will.” He kissed Will, gentle and sweet, contrasting the steel and depth of his next words: “I would live and die and kill for you, mano širdis.” 

Will’s heart jumped, too exhausted to race, but unable to not react. He could feel the beast's growl threaded through the vow. 

He couldn’t think of a good reply. So instead he said: “Dinner?” 

”Of course, darling.” 

Will shivered as Hannibal got off of him. He watched Hannibal put himself back together, fixing his clothes and hair, though there was nothing to do about the stain on his pants or the cut on his lip. 

Will liked the look. A lot. 

He didn’t want anyone else seeing Hannibal like this, though. This was just for him. 

He sat up, biting back a sound as he felt come leak out of him. He wanted to reach down and catch a few drops on his fingers and give it a taste. He didn’t. He thought Hannibal had had enough of Will messing with him. 

He’d taste Hannibal some other time. 

Hannibal offered him a handkerchief to clean up, but Will just slipped his underwear on. Likely not the best of ideas, but he didn’t _want_ to clean up and Hannibal had made him comfortable enough with indulging his wants that he didn’t care. 

Maybe a bit _too_ comfortable, he mused as part of him played with the idea of asking Hannibal for a plug. 

He was learning all sorts of new things about himself these days. 

He grabbed Hannibal’s hand as they left. The smile Hannibal gave him warmed him more than anything else. 

Maybe this day was a good one after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dream sequence in this chapter is...certainly something and I'm not sure how to properly tag it. Tell me what tags I should add, please?
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!!

Will followed Jack down the lab floor corridor, heading for the main autopsy room.

”You’re sure it’s not him?” Jack demanded. 

Will bit back a sigh. “I’m sure, Jack.” 

They’d just met Peter Bernadone and Will didn’t see him as a killer. He was almost certain he knew who the killer was, but getting that out of him would take a gentler hand than Jack was currently willing to extend. Will would go back on his own later. 

Maybe he’d take Hannibal with him. 

Speak of the devil. 

They turned a corner and approaching the autopsy room was a familiar paisley clad back. Something inside of Will eased. 

”Dr. Lecter,” Jack called out. 

Hannibal halted and turned around, smiling as he saw them. “Good afternoon.” 

Will returned Hannibal’s smile from behind Jack. “Hi. You’re right on time.” 

”Let’s not keep the others waiting,” said Jack. 

He led the way into the autopsy room. The team looked like they’d just finished prepping everything. Jack, Will and Hannibal stayed off to the side but in view of the proceedings. Jack nodded at his team to begin. 

Price was in the middle of talking about the soil packed into Sarah Craber's throat when he jumped back, hand flying off Craber's chest. 

”What is it?” Beverly asked. 

”I felt a heartbeat,” Price quietly said. 

”You’re insane,” Zeller said, putting his own hand over Craber’s chest. “She’s been a corpse for ag— _Holy shit!_ ”

Zeller jumped back as well and Price gestured victoriously. “See?” 

Beverly put her fingers on Craber’s wrist, her other hand on Craber’s chest, flinching a little as she did so. She looked up at Jack. 

”No pulse, but…” She took a deep breath. “There’s something in there.” 

After thinking over it, Jack nodded. “Open her up.” 

As the team readied to obey Jack's order, Will glanced at Hannibal beside him. He looked amused and curious. Will wondered when the first time he’d seen a dead body was. As a medical trainee, perhaps? Or earlier? 

What had happened to Hannibal’s sister? 

Hannibal looked at him. Will just smiled and turned his attention back to the autopsy. 

Craber's chest was opened up. The three leaned in to look inside—and drew back, nearly falling over in their haste as something shot out. They all watched in shock as a small black bird rested on the rafters and immediately began cleaning itself. 

”What the fuck,” said Zeller. 

”In all my years of doing this…” Price trailed off. 

Beverly continued: “Never seen anything like this.” 

Will felt a gentle touch on his back. He look back at Hannibal and flushed, realizing he’d instinctively stepped in front of him in an attempt to protect. He went back to where he’d been, feeling Hannibal’s fond eyes on him. 

They spent a little over ten minutes trying to get the bird into a cage, finally succeeding when it had flown close to Will and Hannibal managed to gently get his hands around it. He was careful not to get injured or let it harm itself as it thrashed in his hold. 

He spoke about rebirth, about how maybe their hopeful healer had tried to capture the woman’s spirit in the bird so she could live anew. When Jack shot a Will a look, he nodded. It sounded right. 

He glanced at the caged bird. 

He knew just what to do with it. 

  


=¤=

Will rubbed at his eyes and clamped his lips shut against a yawn. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night since Jack had called in the middle of his and Hannibal’s good night call. A team had apparently been sent to the place that matched the dirt in Craber's throat and found clues in the form of fifteen dead women in the graves they’d been buried alive in. 

Will had gone to the scene, managed a fitful nap and, not feeling the slightest bit rested, rushed to Peter Bernadone, bird in hand. Sarah Craber had been dug out of her grave to be stuffed into a horse and he _knew_ Peter had done it. Just as much as he knew Peter hadn’t been the one to kill her but knew who had. 

How else would he have known where to find her? 

Peter had given him a name and Clark Ingram was being brought in for questioning as Will raced back to Quantico, growling a little as the little bump had his knee slamming against the top of the footwell. 

Just from seeing his polite, friendly smile, Will knew they had their killer. There had been _nothing_ in his eyes. It was so, _so_ obvious, even Hannibal agreed that there was something off about it, but they didn’t have any hard evidence. 

So Jack had to let him go. 

Will sighed, rubbing his eyes. He jumped as a familiar hand wrapped a hand around his wrist. 

”You’re going to hurt yourself, darling,” said Hannibal. 

Will sighed again and lowered his hands, slipping one into Hannibal’s. Hannibal had pulled the Bentley over on the side of the road, the interior lit by the setting sun. Will had left his own car at Quantico, deciding to stay with Hannibal for the night. He’d called a sitter for his dogs. 

”You’ll get him, Will,” Hannibal said. “You’re far too skilled for him to hide from.” 

”I’m part of a team, you know,” said Will. “I don’t work alone. They’d still be getting by without me.” 

”Perhaps,” Hannibal agreed, “but much further behind than with you.” 

Will managed a smile. “Not that much.” 

”Agree to disagree.” 

Will laughed, squeezing Hannibal’s hand. He sobered quickly. “That’s not everything.” 

”Tell me,” said (ordered) Hannibal. 

”Peter,” Will said. “Ingram’s gonna know Peter’s the one who got him brought in and…I’m worried about what he’s going to do.” 

Hannibal looked thoughtful. “Shall we check on him, then? I can invite him for dinner and to stay the night. So you need not worry about him being attacked.” 

”You don’t have to offer something like that—” Will was silenced with a finger on his lips. 

Hannibal, amused and affectionate, told him: “I want to, mon chéri. I wish to relieve you of as much of your worries as I can. And you know how much I enjoy cooking for others.” 

Will trembled. He pushed Hannibal’s hand away from his face and leaned across the center console to kiss him. He teased Hannibal’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it and moaning as he did. He tried to pull back and was kept in place by a hand on his nape. He whimpered as Hannibal rubbed his tongue against Will’s. Hannibal gave it a quick but gentle bite that had Will moaning again before he was released. 

His hand slipped off Will’s neck and, _God_ , Will wanted to say something. Wanted to say something to Hannibal that he hadn’t said to anyone in years. He wanted to. _Badly._

Instead, Will swallowed the words down and got back in his seat. They took a minute to calm themselves, hands relaxing their grip around the other’s. Will was glad the street they were on was deserted. 

”Okay,” Will rasped out. “Let’s go get Peter.” 

Hannibal smiled at him with a bit too much teeth, the beast not quite tamped down yet. Will’s steadying heart picked up its pace again. 

”Tell me where to go.” 

  


=¤=

”No,” Will whispered. 

”What is it?” Hannibal asked, looking around the room Will had spoken to Peter in twice before . 

”His animals are gone,” said Will, gesturing to the open and empty cages. “Ingram's done something.” 

”Where do you think Peter is, darling?” 

Will took a deep breath. “Let’s check the barn.” 

The feeling of something being _very_ wrong increased as he headed for the barn, keeping Hannibal behind him. He got his gun out, just as a precaution. 

He wasn’t expecting to find what he did. 

”Peter,” Will said. “Is your social worker in that horse?” 

”Yes,” came the hesitant answer. 

_Oh, boy._

Will looked to Hannibal who simply gazed back at him. Apparently, he was gonna let Will call all the shots. Will sighed. 

”May I ask why?” said Will. 

”He should—should feel it, too,” Peter replied. “What he makes—what he makes those girls feel when he—when they get buried. Just…wanna make him—make him understand.” 

”Right,” Will said. “We were going to invite you to dinner. How about you go get changed? Hannibal can walk you back,” he added, glancing at Hannibal. He’d probably be able to help Peter more than Will could. Hannibal nodded. Will kind of wanted to kiss him again. 

After appearing to think it over, Peter stood up. He let Hannibal lead him out of the barn, neither of them seeming to mind the amount of horse blood covering Peter. 

Will waited until the door was closed to take out his phone. He looked at the distended horse belly, wondering if he should call 911 or Jack. He looked away and dialed Jack. 

Cell signal was awful so Will wandered around the barn, dialing over and over again. He got near a sheep in a stall and gave it a few pats, liking the fluffiness of its wool. 

He'd just dialed Jack again when he felt a prick in his neck and everything went black.

  


=¤=

Will groaned as his brain came back online, a throbbing pain splitting apart his skull. It felt like a really bad hangover, but he couldn’t remember drinking so much recently. 

He couldn’t remember much of anything, really. 

A hand touched his cheek, gently turning his head and Will’s blurry eyes just barely made out Hannibal’s face above him. 

”How do you feel, darling?” Hannibal asked, voice and words almost unrecognizable through the cotton that was stuffed in Will’s ears. 

”Like shit,” Will answered, tongue dry and heavy in his mouth. “What happened? Where are we?” 

”We are currently in my car still near Peter’s barn,” said Hannibal. 

_Peter?_ A few pieces fell into place, but that still didn’t explain everything. Sounds became more distinguishable and Will could make out several voices. 

”What happened?” he repeated. 

Hannibal sighed. “Just as I had gotten Peter seated in the first room you brought me to, he told me he hadn’t killed Mr. Ingram. That he was still alive inside the mare. I grew worried and excused myself to check on you. I found you unconscious under a very bloody Mr. Ingram and I fought him briefly before he ran. I will admit to being more concerned with your well being than his escape. 

”Jack heard him confess to killing the women and framing Peter over your phone call with him and sent people here. They are currently trying to find clues as to where he's gone.” 

It made sense. It was very convincing. A good story. 

Will, even fuzzed out on drugs, knew it was only that. 

A story. 

He doubted, though, that anyone else knew Hannibal enough to tell. 

”What happened to Ingram?” Will whispered. 

Hannibal opened his mouth to tell his story again. He probably thought Will’s brains were too scrambled to gave gotten things properly the first time. Will shook his head—just once before closing his eyes at the pain that ricocheted around his skull. When he got his eyes open again, he made sure to be looking into Hannibal’s before speaking. 

”What happened to Ingram?” 

Hannibal’s eyes darkened. The beast bared teeth and claws dripping with blood and gazed back at Will with open, _terrifying_ affection and dark satisfaction. 

Hannibal rubbed a thumb over Will’s cheekbone. “Suffice to say you don’t need to worry about him bothering you or anyone again.” 

Will decided to examine the implications of those words later. He’d examine the _comfort_ they gave him later. For now, he wrapped that comfort around himself and smiled at his lover. “Trying to relieve me of as many of my worries as you can?” 

Hannibal smiled, kissing Will’s forehead. “Exactly so, mano širdis. You can go back to sleep if you’d like.” 

It was then that Will finally took in his surroundings. He was tucked into a blanket in the reclined front seat of the Bentley, Hannibal leaned against the side of the seat by the open door. They were probably in full view of several of Will’s co-workers. 

He didn’t care. Let them see. Let them know. Some of them already thought he had a sugar daddy because of Beverly’s cafeteria shenanigans. 

”How’s Peter?” Will asked. “What’s gonna happen to him?” 

”He is currently being questioned, but I have already made arrangements for him,” said Hannibal. “He will be brought to a facility where he will be held and watched over, but allowed visitors as well as access to an outdoor area and to several psychiatrists whose talents I can vouch for.” 

”You’re very good at this whole relieving worries thing,” Will remarked. 

”Good.” 

Someone called for Hannibal. It took everything in Will to tell him to go instead of begging to be taken home. His or Hannibal’s, he didn’t care as long as Hannibal stayed with him. 

Hannibal saw it, though. He must have because he was back before five minutes had passed, closing Will’s door and getting into the driver’s seat. He told Will, once again, to feel free to sleep. 

Hannibal rushed a little. Just enough that, as they went over the little bump between driveway and road, everything in the car jumped. 

Something large bounced in the trunk. Something that hadn’t been there when they first arrived. 

Will closed his eyes, feeling safer than he could remember ever being. 

  


=¤=

When Will woke again, the splitting headache was gone. 

He was tucked into Hannibal’s bed, wearing a loose shirt and underwear. He had vague memories of being made to eat a sandwich and change. It was still dark. 

He turned to his other side, stretching an arm out to try and find Hannibal. 

He found nothing. His eyes flew open. 

A quick scan of the room revealed no one, the bathroom and walk-in closet lights off. The sheets on Hannibal’s side of the bed were cold and still neat. 

Will remembered _I would live and die and kill for you, mano širdis_ and _Suffice to say you don’t need to worry about him bothering you or anyone again_ and the bounce in the trunk and the pleased beast. 

He poked at his own brain, looking for any fear, any disgust, any desire to grab his phone off where he could see it on the nightstand and call Jack to tell him that Clark Ingram had been stuffed in Hannibal’s trunk under his nose while they’d been searching for him and that Hannibal was likely now disposing of the body. 

He didn’t find anything like that. 

He found comfort and safety and a fierce, savage pleasure at getting the attention and affection of a man who thought him worth killing for. 

No, he’d never tell Jack or anyone about this. 

He snuggled back into the pillows, hugging the one most saturated with Hannibal’s scent. He knew that, in the morning, Hannibal would be with him. 

Where else would he or the beast want to be? 

  


=¤=

Will could hear his dogs barking even before he left his car. Hannibal wasn’t with him, but he’d promised to come by tomorrow and they’d already spent the day together until a little after noon when Hannibal had to meet a patient and Will had to go to Quantico to talk to Jack. He’d taken a cab. 

He hadn’t told Jack a thing about what he suspected had happened to Clark Ingram. 

He hadn’t talked to Hannibal about it either. 

He’d woken up hugging Hannibal instead of the pillow. He’d been clean and fresh smelling, not a hint to be found regarding Ingram's fate. 

Even as they’d eaten a hearty breakfast, Will made no mention of the events of the previous night beyond asking when they could visit Peter. 

Will had still been a bit loopy from whatever he’d been shot up with. He’d used it to convince Hannibal to cuddle on the couch for a few hours. He’d half-dozed while Hannibal read on his tablet. With bleary eyes, he’d stared at Hannibal’s hands: long and elegant fingers well acquainted with instruments and fine blades. 

A thought had tickled in the back of Will’s head, but he could never quite grasp it. 

Will lingered on that elusive thought as he greeted his dogs. He had a feeling it was important. But no matter what he did, it continued to evade him. 

He prepared dinner for himself and his dogs, mind moving on to Jack telling him that they had no clue as to Ingram’s whereabouts. They’d found a trail of bloody footprints leading a little into the woods surrounding Peter’s place, but nothing beyond that. They’d examined cameras along the highway and caught no sight of Ingram. 

Jack had promised to find him and said Will didn’t have to help after what Ingram had done. The call had been cut off just after Ingram’s confession, presumably due to the bad call service, so they didn’t actually know anything beyond that. Except for what Hannibal had told them. 

Everyone believed him, of course. How else could Dr. Lecter end up covered in horse blood if not from grappling with Ingram? And, _of course_ , Dr. Lecter hadn’t gone after Ingram when he ran; he wasn’t an agent after all and Agent Graham was knocked out, _of course_ , he’d be worried about him, they seem really close, have you noticed, like, _really_ close, what do you think is going on there? 

Who would ever think the posh Dr. Lecter capable of murder? Sure, he’s eccentric, but _murder?_

How ridiculous. 

Will had accepted the offer not to look for Ingram. It wasn’t like anything would come of it. 

Not with Will so unwilling to say anything. 

This wasn’t Hannibal’s first murder. 

He pondered that as he and Hannibal did their usual good night call. He’d definitely killed before. He was a little too…efficient not to have. 

He put the phone said and settled in to sleep. 

What would his dreams being him tonight? 

  


=¤=

Will moaned as Hannibal rocked inside him, moving in lazy, languid thrusts, rubbing against his prostate, fingers plucking at Will’s nipples, mouth at Will’s neck. Will’s throbbing cock was trapped between his stomach and the desk. When he tried to get some friction, Hannibal just rested his weight on him, hands moving to Will’s biceps. Will let out a frustrated sound. 

Hannibal’s lips went to Will’s ear, giving the shell a quick lick before whispering: “Look up, darling.” 

Will obeyed, expecting to see the familiar configuration of chairs, chaise and windows. 

Instead he saw the Ravenstag, standing tall and proud, its mix of fur and feathers moving in an unfelt wind. 

Next to it was Clark Ingram. 

He was hanging from thick black ropes connected to a ceiling which disappeared into darkness above them. His neck was bent in a way that made it obvious it was broken, his torso sliced open and hollowed out, his internal organs in a messy pile on the ground, except for his heart which was still beating in his empty chest, in time with Will’s own racing heart. 

Will groaned, hole tightening around Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal made a low noise, fucking into Will’s body a little faster, a little harder. Will smiled, glad that he could give Hannibal even the tiniest bit of pleasure Will felt at the sight of the man Hannibal had killed because he’d dared to hurt Will. 

_God_ , Will was so fucking hard. 

He reached up, cupping Ingram’s rabbiting heart. He caressed it, feeling the slick, sturdy organ, covering his hand in leftover blood. 

He ripped it out. 

The Ravenstag made an approving noise in time with Hannibal’s laugh. Will could hear the beast's pleased growl underneath it all. 

Will brought the still beating heart between his and Hannibal’s faces. Hannibal grinned, teeth unnaturally sharp. 

With the Ravenstag as their witness, they bit into the heart together. 

  


Will gasped, eyes flying open, hand plunging into his boxers to grip his hard, leaking cock. He couldn’t remember all the details of the dream, but he could recall most of it. Enough to know he shouldn’t be aroused by it. 

Yet here he was, furiously jerking himself off, bits of the dream playing over and over again in his head. 

He shouldn’t call Hannibal. He really shouldn’t. 

He grabbed his phone. 

_”Darling?”_

Will whimpered. 

_”Is it a nightmare, caro mio?”_

Will dropped the phone by his ear to reach down and tug on his balls. “Not—a nightmare,” he said. He rubbed his thumb around his cockhead and moaned. 

_”Ah,”_ said Hannibal after a bit of silence. _”A good dream, then. Will you tell me about it?”_

Will shook his head thought Hannibal couldn’t see him. “Not over the phone.” 

_”If that’s what you wish,”_ Hannibal said. _”Are you touching yourself, Will?”_

”Yes.” 

_”Does it feel good?”_

Will whined. “Wish it was you.” 

_”Unfortunately, it would take me too long to get there,”_ said Hannibal. _”Tell me how you’re touching yourself.”_

Will shuddered. “I, um…”

_”Indulge me, mon chéri.”_

God, Will kind of hated him in that moment. He swallowed. “I’m…I’m stroking my cock and…and squeezing my balls.” 

_”Hmm,”_ Hannibal said. _”You’re not touching your hole?”_

Will had to bite down on his lip to calm himself down. “The lube's too far away,” he said. It was in the bathroom for reasons Will couldn’t bother to remember currently. 

_”But would you like to play with it?”_

”Mm.” 

_”Suck on your fingers, then,”_ Hannibal ordered. 

_Jesus Christ._

Will brought a hand up to his mouth , sucking on three of his fingers. He let himself be loud for Hannibal. 

_”Very good.”_

Will groaned. He remembered a different dream. He squeezed the base of his cock, not wanting to come too quickly. 

_”I’d like you to suck my cock soon, Will,”_ Hannibal said, tone conversational. _”Have you done that before?”_

”Yeah,” Will slurred around his fingers. 

Hannibal made a low, pleased noise. _”Are your fingers wet enough, darling?”_

”Mm-hm,” Will said. 

_”You should put one inside you,”_ Hannibal suggested. 

Will nodded. That sounded like a _great_ idea. He got his underwear off and his hand between his legs. He circled his hole. He pushed the tip of a finger in with a soft cry. 

He kept making little noises as he got that first finger in, followed quickly (maybe a little too quickly) by another. The angle wasn’t enough for him to be able to touch his prostate. He whined. 

_”Can you touch your prostate, caro mio?”_

”No,” Will said, almost a sob. 

_”Do you have any toys, perhaps?”_

”No,” Will said again. “You know…” he trailed off, thumbing his cockhead and shoving the third finger in. 

_”What is it?”_

Will moved his hips, riding his fingers and fucking into his fist. “When you…when you were fucking me—in your office—I thought about it. I wanted—a plug to keep your come inside of me. Will you get me one? Pretty please?” 

Hannibal sucked in a breath. When he spoke, his voice was a low purr. _”As you wish, mano širdis.”_

_Oh, fuck._

”Hannibal, I’m close,” Will said, hands and hips moving faster. 

_”Come for me, Will.”_

Will cried out, hand flying on his cock, hole clenching desperately around his fingers, wanting more, _needing_ Hannibal. 

He came with a low groan of Hannibal’s name, come landing on his sweat stained shirt. He was gasping as he came down, pulling his fingers out of himself. 

_”Are you satisfied, my dear?”_

”Yeah,” said Will. His brows furrowed. “What about you?” 

_”I promise I’m well satisfied,”_ said Hannibal. _”May I see you in the morning?”_

The original plan had been for him to come by in the afternoon. But who was Will to deny him? 

”Please,” Will said. 

_”Then, I will be there when you wake,”_ said Hannibal. _”Go to sleep, darling.”_

Will’s eyes were already fluttering shut. “Mm.” 

_”Good night.”_

”G'night.” 

The dark took hold of Will again. Even when he awoke a couple hours later standing on his roof instead of lying in his bed, he wasn’t too scared. 

Hannibal would be with him in the morning. 

What was there to worry about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a shot every time I write about Will waking up.
> 
> (I take no responsibility for what happens to you if you do this.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE THERE'LL BE LESS SEX SOON GOD WHY ARE THESE TWO SO HORNY (somebody help me figure out what to tag this thing god)
> 
> I know nothing about fishing so forgive any weirdness you might find here.
> 
> Also, reminder that I'm messing around with Hanni's backstory to better fit with this story.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter!!

Will was sitting on his porch steps watching his dogs run around when Hannibal drove up. Will smiled and stood, the soft purple blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

”Good morning,” Will greeted. 

”Good morning,” said Hannibal. The dogs had swarmed around him the moment he exited the Bentley. He shifted the bags he held into one hand and began pulling treats out of his coat pockets. 

Will shook his head, but didn’t try to stop him. 

After shooing the dogs off, he went to Will and pulled him into a kiss. Will wrapped an around him, his other hand still holding the blanket. He hummed when Hannibal licked into his mouth. 

Hannibal pulled away, dropping one last kiss on Will’s cheek. “Would you like breakfast, my dear?” 

”Sure,” said Will. “You go ahead, I need to get the dogs inside.” 

”Of course.” 

Will got another kiss before Hannibal went inside. Will herded the dogs in and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Hannibal for a moment. He’d brought ingredients instead of a ready meal and was in the middle of separating the flesh and core of a green bell pepper. One of his dogs came to stand by Will. 

Will stepped in, moving around Hannibal to get the food for his dogs. The comfortable domesticity of everything sank into Will’s body and filled him with a languid contentment. 

After laying out food for the dogs and Hannibal had moved on to cooking after his prep work, Will sat by the counter, watching. 

”What were you planning to do this morning before I called you last night?” Will asked, blowing on the mug of coffee Hannibal poured out of a thermos for him. 

”Some composing,” said Hannibal. “I’m more than happy to be spending time with you instead.” 

Will smiled into his drink. 

”Do you have plans for the day, Will?” Hannibal asked. 

”I want to go fishing,” said Will. 

”May I join you?” 

Will raised a brow. “As over prepared as you usually are, I highly doubt you have some waders hidden away in your trunk.” 

”True,” Hannibal said over the hiss of eggs being poured into a pan. “I do, however, have a sketchbook. I’ll sit by the shore. Perhaps draw you.” 

Will huffed. “Sure.” 

Hannibal shot him a smile. Will had to look away. His eyes landed on the other bag Hannibal had brought with him, resting on the floor unopened. 

”What’s in there?” Will asked. 

”Gifts for you,” Hannibal answered. 

”’Gift _s_ ’? Plural?” said Will. 

”I’ve brought you four,” Hannibal replied. “Two I’d prefer to show you later, the others"—he pulled two things out of the bag and placed them in front of Will—”you may open now, if you’d like.” 

”This doesn’t seem excessive to you?” Will said. 

”It does not.” 

Will sighed but was unable to tamp down a smile. “Which one first?” 

”I’ll leave that to you, caro mio.” 

Both items were wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. One appeared to be a book, the other was smaller and flatter. Will chose that one. 

He could feel Hannibal’s attention was split between Will and his cooking as Will untied the twine and peeled back the paper. He lifted the lid of the green box inside, staring curiously at what he found. 

There was a line of thin, generally oval shaped disks in various shades of yellow, outlined and connected by gold. It glittered all the brighter against the dark green velvet it lay on. 

”What is it?” Will asked. 

Hannibal approached him, briefly leaving the sausages he’d just started on. “Give me your hand.” 

Will extended a hand and Hannibal wrapped the thing—a bracelet, apparently—around his wrist, securing it with clasps so small and subtle, Will immediately forgot where they were. 

”Its from my home country,” said Hannibal. “It is made of amber or, as it is sometimes known, Baltic gold. It is said to have stress relieving and energizing properties.” 

Will hummed. He twisted his wrist around, watching the play of light on the amber. “I like it,” he said. 

Hannibal kissed his hand and went back to the stove. “I’m glad. It took some time to get here, I’d hoped to give it to you sooner.” 

”I don’t mind the wait.” 

Will moved on to the second gift. It was, as he had suspected, a book. A wide smile stretched across his face as noticed what it was about. 

He looked up at Hannibal. “You got me a book on dogs?” 

”I saw it and thought you would enjoy it,” said Hannibal. 

If possible, Will’s smile grew even larger. 

He flipped through the book, finding a history on dogs, sections on popular and uncommon dog breeds, common diseases and short stories from dog owners about the various ways their pets cared for, comforted and entertained them. Will adored it already. 

Hannibal finished breakfast while Will was distracted by the book. He put it aside when a plate was placed by his hand. Will gave Hannibal a kiss to thank him before tucking in, Hannibal beside him. 

The sliced sausage with the pepper and mushroom omelet was sweet and drizzled with chili vinegar. Will remarked that Hannibal seemed fond of pork, considering how often he served it. Hannibal said there was just something about the taste that he really enjoyed. 

That turned into a conversation on some of the odder things Hannibal had eaten: a list which contained ant larvae, live octopus, bird hearts and something that involved hiding your face from God. 

Will should probably be concerned that he was more disgusted by insect cheese than murder. 

He wasn’t. 

In his defense, cheese made with insect larvae that could jump on you if you disturbed their home wasn’t something he’d encountered before. Murder, on the other hand, he saw on a weekly basis. 

”Insects aren’t so terrible tasting as you seem to think.” 

”If you try to serve me a single spider, Dr. Lecter, I will be leaving you.” 

”I _have_ had fried tarantula before.” 

”Shut up before I lose my appetite.” 

Hannibal kissed his temple. 

Will kind of hated that that was all it took to forgive him. 

They washed the dishes together then Will went to prepare his gear while Hannibal readied a picnic for them. Will managed to find a basket left behind by the previous owners of the house that was in miraculously good condition. Hannibal seemed to appreciate it. 

They headed off to the stream, hand in hand, the dogs running around them. Will led Hannibal to a place with a large flat rock and plenty of overhanging branches for shade despite the lack of leaves. 

Will waded into the stream. It didn’t bring the same peacefulness he always felt, but why would it when Hannibal had already given it to him? 

He glanced back to see Hannibal perched on the rock, pulling his sketchbook and a pack of pencils out of the basket. 

Will smiled and focused on fishing. 

It was some time later (after he’d gotten two fish in the cooler and another managed to evade him) when he checked on Hannibal and his heart fluttered. 

He was still on the rock sketching. Buster had tuckered himself out and climbed the rock to take a nap at Hannibal’s hip. Will’s older dogs, Addie and Rusty were resting at Hannibal’s feet—Rusty _literally_ on his feet as he was wont to do. Hannibal had set a dish of water out for them, which was ridiculous seeing as they could just drink from the stream. He’d probably give Will a lecture on bacteria in freshwater if he said anything. 

Will wanted to spend everyday like this. With Hannibal and his dogs, to spend as little time apart as possible. 

He wondered if it was too soon to ask Hannibal to move in. Or for him to move in with Hannibal. He didn’t mind either way, as long as he had both Hannibal and his dogs. 

It was probably too soon. 

Would it still be too soon in another week? 

Will didn’t care. He’d talk to Hannibal about it in a week. 

Will caught a couple more fish before Hannibal called out that it was time to eat lunch. He laughed when he saw him. The rest of his dogs had gotten tired as well and crowded around Hannibal to rest or nap. Hannibal couldn’t stand without disturbing everyone. 

”You comfortable over there?” Will asked as he approached. 

”It’s very pleasantly warm,” said Hannibal. 

”How exactly are you planning to eat?” Will said. 

”My hands are still free,” Hannibal explained. “Or perhaps you can feed me.” 

Will hummed and got on the rock behind Hannibal. He moved the basket to his side and patted his thighs. “Lie down.” 

Hannibal smiled as he lay back, head on the dry part of Will’s legs seeing as the water had only gone up to just below his knees. Will washed his hands as best he could with the wet wipes Hannibal had packed. 

”I do believe I’m supposed to be the one spoiling _you_ ,” Hannibal mused. 

”That’s why there’s rumors going around that you’re my sugar daddy,” Will said. 

”I’m not opposed to the title,” said Hannibal. 

”Unsurprising,” Will muttered. Marie shifted to lay her head on Hannibal’s stomach. 

Will fed both of them with the salad, sandwiches and candied fruit Hannibal had packed. There was also water and tea that Hannibal had get up on an elbow to drink. The dogs wandered off to play again, but the two of them stayed as they were. Once everything was put away (either in their stomachs or the basket), Will played with Hannibal’s hair. 

”Could you tell me now, darling? What you dreamt last night?” Hannibal asked. 

Will thought for a moment. “Could you answer something for me first?” 

”Of course,” said Hannibal. 

”Sit up.” 

Hannibal obliged and Will straddled him, Hannibal’s arms going around him to keep him secure. 

”It’s fine if you don’t wanna answer,” Will said. 

"Tell me what you wish to know, mon chéri," Hannibal said.

Will chewed on his lip, but he kept his eyes on Hannibal’s. “What happened to your sister?” 

For a moment, Will thought Hannibal wouldn’t answer. His face went blank, eyes going far away. Will really wouldn’t mind if he said nothing. He was getting ready to change the subject to last night’s dream when Hannibal started to speak. 

”I’ve told you about how she and I separated from out parents,” Hannibal began. “I ran with her through the garden we all danced in to our family’s small hunting lodge in the surrounding forest, it took longer to get there than I care to remember. We hid there and I promised her everything would be all right, that I would protect her, that our parents would arrive soon. 

”A week and three days later, a group of five men arrived, all carrying weaponry, none of their faces recognizable to me. They said they wouldn’t hurt us, that they only planned to stay the night. They asked about our parents, but I told them nothing, my sister following my lead. 

”That night, a blizzard began, typical for that time of year. I knew it would likely last a few days to a week. With the scant provisions in the lodge, my sister and I could have lasted just fine. But with five grown men with us…I worried. 

”And I was right to. The food ran out quickly and there was no sign of the storm letting up. It was too dangerous to head outside and there was little to find, in any case.” 

Hannibal paused. Will’s heart began to race. 

”They took her from me. Two of them held me down while the others ripped her out of my arms. She cried, calling out for me to help her, to save her and I tried. But I was only a ten year old boy against several trained soldiers. There was nothing I could do except scream as she was slaughtered and butchered in front of me. 

”They tied me to a corner as they turned her into a stew with leftover ingredients my family had grown and dried ourselves. They placed a bowl of her within my reach, laughing at my misery and grief.” 

He cupped Will’s face and Will automatically leaned into the touch. Hannibal smiled though his eyes were still distant. Will made an concentrated effort not to follow them. Hannibal continued: “I ate it. To honor her. Do you find that monstrous?” 

Will shook his head, careful not to dislodge Hannibal’s hand on his face. He thought of Garret Jacob Hobbs and the daughter Will couldn’t save. How odd that it was him that brought Will to this man. 

”Only hours later, the blizzard abruptly ended,” said Hannibal. “The men left, leaving me still tied to a corner, ready to die. But before the day ended I was found by more soldiers, ones who actually wished to help. The men were careful. No proof of their deeds remained in the lodge. I said nothing to the soldiers and they brought me to an orphanage. Two years later the orphanage moved to the abandoned and gutted Lecter castle. Two years after that, my uncle found me.” 

Will’s hands flexed on Hannibal’s arms. He swallowed. “What happened to them? To the men who killed her?” 

Hannibal’s hand moved to wrap around Will’s neck. Will shifted, but he wasn’t afraid. 

”When I was older, I found out they were still alive,” Hannibal said. “One of them had a daughter around my sister’s age when she died. I didn’t harm her or her mother, but her father as well as the four others…I found them.” 

Fingers pressed down, not quite gently, on the blood vessels on either side of Will’s throat. They could undoubtedly feel the fierce pace being kept by his pulse. 

”I killed them.” 

Will’s heart skipped. The fingers on his throat eased, but didn’t leave. 

”Do you find that monstrous?” 

”The dream. Last night,” said Will in lieu of an answer, voice breathy. “You were fucking me from behind on your desk and you told me to look up. I did and I saw Clark Ingram, dead. I pulled out his heart and we bit into it together.” 

Hannibal’s eyes finally focused on him, burning with something Will couldn’t bring himself to look too deeply into but he caught something like longing. 

”I don’t find you monstrous,” _no matter how much of a monster you may actually be._

He was pulled in by the neck for a kiss and Will opened his mouth for Hannibal’s tongue. He moaned when he felt Hannibal’s erection underneath him. He rubbed against it while Hannibal teased Will’s tongue into his mouth to suck on. 

It would take too much time to get his waders and thermal leggings off. Thankfully, Hannibal had made a request. 

”You said,” Will mumbled against Hannibal’s lips, “that you wanted me to suck you off, right?” 

Will slid down to his knees between Hannibal’s feet, licking his lips. Hannibal looked down at him, hungry. 

”You seem to be in a bit of a mood, darling,” Hannibal remarked. 

”Does it bother you?” Will asked, hands on Hannibal’s thighs. 

Hannibal smirked. “Not at all.” 

He reached down to undo his pants and take out his cock. He gave himself a few strokes under Will’s wanting gaze and Will swallowed, mouth filling with saliva. 

He pushed Hannibal’s hand out of the way, replacing it with his own, feeling it in his hand for the first time. Will shivered. 

He tugged on it twice, thrice before taking the head into his mouth with a soft groan. Hannibal leaned back to give him more room. 

It stretched Will’s jaw as he moved further down. He was looking forward to being sore and hoarse later. 

He wiggled his tongue against the underside and gently scraped his teeth on it. Hannibal grunted softly and slid a hand into Will’s curls to nudge him down some more. 

Will sucked, hollowing his cheeks. Hannibal thrust up as if he couldn’t help it and Will had to pull back as he choked. 

”My apologies,” said Hannibal. 

”S'fine,” Will gasped. He got it into his mouth again, adjusting his angle to be able to take more in. It'd been some time since he’d last sucked cock, but he’d liked it back then and he _loved_ it with Hannibal. 

He took it as deep as he comfortably could, stroking what was left out with a hand, then pulled back to focus on Hannibal’s cockhead. He tongued the slit and the foreskin, making delighted noises when he started tasting salty drops of precome. 

He bobbed his head again, getting more and more in until his nose was buried in thick pubic hair, unable to breathe as a cock dipped into his throat. 

He stayed there for a few lightheaded seconds, moaning, until he had to pull back to breathe, then he did it again. And again. And again. Hannibal’s rasping breaths and the small movements of his hips sent shivers of pleasure down Will’s spine. 

God, Will was so fucking hard. He could feel himself leaking in his underwear (one of the ones from Hannibal, of course) and he rubbed at himself over his clothes since he couldn’t really reach in and touch himself. 

His other hand he put on top of Hannibal’s in his hair. He pressed on it while moving down, trying to tell Hannibal what he wanted without having to say it. 

”Are you sure, caro mio?” 

Will moaned. 

Hannibal’s hand tightened in Will’s curls almost painfully and he started moving Will’s head up and down his dick. 

Will whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he let Hannibal take control with strong, sure movements of his hand and, eventually, his hips. 

Hannibal held him down until he weakly slapped Hannibal’s thigh at the lack of oxygen, but when Will didn’t complain beyond that, he did it again and again. It made Will’s cock jump and had him rutting against his own hand. 

After Hannibal held him down on his cock long enough for a couple black spots to appear in Will’s vision, Hannibal pulled him all the way off his cock. Will gasped for breath, coughing a little, but still whining for more. 

”I’m close, darling,” Hannibal said and Will _reveled_ in how out of breath he sounded. “How do you want me?” 

Will shivered. “I want to taste you,” he said, voice already raspy. “Please? Please, Hannibal?” 

”As you wish.” 

Hannibal fucked into Will’s mouth in a way that almost hurt but felt so good then retreated until only his head was inside. He stroked himself harshly, his other hand tight in Will’s hair. 

He came, bitter, slightly sweet semen spilling over Will’s tongue which he gulped down greedily, not wanting to lose a drop. 

Fuck, it was so good. 

Will was still thrusting against his hand, his other clenched in Hannibal’s pants. Hannibal’s soft cock slipped out of his mouth and Hannibal grabbed Will’s hand off himself, snatching his other hand as well. 

Will cried out, thrusting against nothing but air. Hannibal kissed him, fast and brutal as he chased the taste of himself in Will’s mouth. Will trembled in his hold. 

”I would like to return the favor in a proper bed, if that’s all right?” Hannibal said. 

”Okay,” Will panted. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind coming in his pants like a teenager groping a girl for the first time, but if Hannibal wanted to play with him, that was fine, too. 

Hannibal carried Will’s gear back while Will was given the much lighter basket. He’d had to try thrice to whistle for his dogs. 

Once back at Will’s house, Hannibal told Will to strip down while he put everything away. Will obeyed. The walk had calmed him down some, but he was still half-hard and wholly desperate to come. 

He spread out on his back, completely naked on the bed. He ignored his dogs in the other half of the room beginning to take naps. It was a bit weird having them around for what was to come (ha), but ultimately he didn’t care. 

Hannibal returned from the kitchen with the bag containing the last two gifts. Will glanced at it, then squirmed, turning bright red. 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one thinking of last night’s confessions. 

How or when in the world Hannibal had managed to purchase sex toys between now and then was a goddamn mystery. 

Hannibal smiled, pleased that Will had figured it out. He sat by the edge of the bed and pulled two boxes out. He showed both to Will who squirmed some more, legs parting, cock at full mast again. 

Hannibal pulled the pale blue silicone dildo out of its box and placed it next to Will’s hip along with a tube of probably fancy lubricant. “I do hope you enjoy this, Will, though I think _this_ will have to wait for another day,” he said, putting the box with the butt plug on the nightstand. 

Will trembled. 

Hannibal got comfortable between Will’s legs, pushing them up and apart. Will flushed at being so exposed. Lube was poured on Hannibal’s fingers and he jerked Will off while massaging his hole. 

”Hands over you head, please, mon chéri,” Hannibal said when Will tried to touch himself. 

Will did as told, clutching the pillow under his head, but moved his hips to try and get Hannibal in him. 

Hannibal chuckled and pushed a finger in, squeezing the base of Will’s cock. The noise that left Will was half-moan, half-sigh. 

The stimulation on both cock and hole reminded him of last night, but was infinitely better because it was _Hannibal_ and that alone had his pleasure skyrocketing. 

Soon, he had three fingers in him, strokes light and teasing over his prostate. When he asked for more, Hannibal kissed his knee and pulled his fingers out, reaching for the dildo. 

He poured lube over that, too. It was smaller than Hannibal (his ego likely wouldn’t allow anything else) but it filled him nicely as it was eased into his body.

Hannibal moved it in a slow, gentle pace. Will arched his hips for more, but was stopped by Hannibal’s hand tightening threateningly around his cock. 

”Hannibal, I need more,” he pleaded. 

Hannibal tipped his head as if thinking about it. “Do you remember those rumors you mentioned earlier, Will?” 

It took Will a few seconds to remember what he was talking about given the current state of his higher brain functions, but when he finally put one and three together, he shook his head vehemently. “No. I’m not calling you that.” 

”Why not?” 

”I don’t _want_ to.” 

”Why not?” Hannibal repeated. He stretched over Will’s body, hooking his fingers under Will’s watch and bracelet—the ludicrously expensive watch and probably equally ludicrously expensive bracelet Hannibal had bought him. 

Will’s blush deepened. “It’s…stupid.” 

”What a shame.” The dildo’s thrusts shallowed, pulling out just before it could reach Will’s prostate. Will whined and tried to get it in deeper, but Hannibal simply shifted to pin down his hips. It put pressure on Will’s cock, but he couldn’t move enough to actually get some friction. 

Will attempted to free his hands and Hannibal adjusted so he had Will’s wrists in one hand, accessories digging into Will’s skin. 

”You asshole,” Will growled. 

”That’s not what I want to hear, Will,” said Hannibal. He rubbed the tip of the dildo just under Will’s prostate. 

Will screwed his eyes shut, panting and squirming. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to because the moment he’d realized what Hannibal was suggesting, his heart had skipped and his cock had jumped and _he wanted to say it._

”We need to discuss these things better,” Will snapped. 

Hannibal kissed his cheek. 

Will swallowed, eyes still closed. He made another attempt to ride the toy which resulted in another failure. He bit down on his lip hard enough to split the skin and have a bead of blood trickle down his scruffy cheek. He heard Hannibal’s breath catch before a tongue was licking the blood away with a low groan of pleasure. 

Will opened teary eyes, immediately seeing his hungry beast in Hannibal’s. It made it easier to speak. 

”More please, _Daddy_ ,” he whispered. 

”Thank you for indulging me, mano širdis.” 

Hannibal licked up the fresh blood welling on Will’s lip and began pistoning the toy, hard and fast, in and out of Will’s body. Will cried out and writhed as his prostate was thoroughly abused. 

Hannibal leaned down to suck and bite on Will’s nipples and Will whined. The shift in Hannibal’s position allowed Will to move his hips and meet each of the toy’s thrusts. 

”So good,” Will babbled. “Feels so good, Daddy.” 

He tried to rub his cock against Hannibal’s stomach, needing _something_ , but couldn’t get enough pressure. Hannibal finished sucking a bruise onto Will’s chest then pressed down on Will’s wrists telling him to keep his hands there. He shifted down and took Will’s cock into his mouth. Will clutched his pillow, moaning and bucking his hips. 

Hannibal didn’t stop Will. He let Will fuck into his mouth while Hannibal kept the dildo moving. Will threw his head back, shouting _yes_ and _so good_ and _Hannibal_ and _Daddy, Daddy, Daddy._

He came quickly, shuddering as Hannibal swallowed around him, the dildo’s thrusts gentling, but not quite stopping. 

Will squirmed when it became too much. A soft sound escaped him when the toy was pulled out. 

Hannibal rose up to kiss him and— _oh._

Hannibal hadn’t swallowed all of Will’s come. He fed some of it to Will who groaned and reached up to hug him close. He sucked the bitter taste of himself off of Hannibal’s tongue and licked over his teeth. 

Their kiss gentled into something soft and sweet and when they separated, they both had small smiles on their faces. 

”Don’t expect me to call you that all the time,” said Will. 

Hannibal chuckled. “Shall it be a rare treat for me?” 

Will gave him another quick kiss. “Something like that,” he said and fought back a yawn. 

Hannibal looked amused. “Take a nap, darling.” 

”Will you nap with me?” 

”I had thought it clean the fish you caught,” said Hannibal. 

Will wrinkled his nose. "Fine, but after...” 

”As you wish.” 

Hannibal insisted he at least put some underwear on and Will conceded. He pulled the purple blanket over him. Kissed Will’s sweaty hair. 

Will was out before he could get mad about being tucked in like a child.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick disclaimers:
> 
> 1)I know nothing about medicine
> 
> 2) I know nothing about cooking
> 
> 3) I don't actually know the exact day Will and Hanni met, I just settled on Wednesday for fic timeline reasons :/
> 
> HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!!

“I meant what I said when I told you I’d leave you if you feed me any bugs,” Will said.

Hannibal laughed quietly. “Worry not, darling, casu marzu is illegal in the United States.” 

”So is murder,” Will muttered, but crossed the cheese shop door Hannibal was holding open. The disconcerting amount and smells of the cheeses inside was somewhat overwhelming, though, with any luck, they wouldn’t be lingering here too long. The only reason he was even here on a late Sunday morning was because he’d taken Hannibal up on his invitation to join him while he ran some errands. 

They’d already picked up some fresh produce, spice refills and only a little bit from a butcher since Hannibal said he’d just gotten a bunch of meat. After all that, they’d begun on some specialty stores for the rarer stuff Hannibal liked. 

The tea shop had been nice. They’d spent some time there trying new blends the elderly owner had acquired or was experimenting with. Will had rather liked one of them despite not really being one for tea and, heart racing, asked Hannibal to buy some for him. The slight embarrassment he'd felt was well worth both Hannibal and the beast’s delight and approval. 

His hand was held in one of Hannibal’s as they went around the store, Hannibal piling things into a basket Will carried. Will also got a short lesson on cheese, which he felt was pointless, but he listened anyway. 

Hannibal was endearing in the oddest ways. 

While Hannibal was choosing between two seemingly identical chunks of cheese, Will became aware that they were being watched. He felt no malice coming from them so Will wasn’t too concerned even as he looked around. 

He found a stocky man, half-hidden behind a stand of cheese in jars of olive oil. He had one of the jars in his hands as he watched Will and Hannibal with a look reminiscent of an abandoned puppy. 

”I ask you not to pay attention to him,” Hannibal said, voice low. 

Will looked back to him, unsurprised that he already knew. “Do you know him?” 

”He is one of my patients,” Hannibal answered. “There is a rule I believe you are already aware of that a psychiatrist cannot approach their patients in public. The opposite, however, is allowed.” 

”Do you want him to approach you?” Will asked. 

Hannibal one of the cheese chunks into the basket. “I would much rather he didn’t. I doubt that it would help him.” 

”Are we going?” 

”I have all that I need so, yes,” said Hannibal. 

They went to the cashier, not paying much attention to Hannibal’s patient as he shifted a little to keep watching them. As they waited behind a woman purchasing an entire 90 pound wheel of parmesan cheese, Will’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and sighed. 

He showed Hannibal the screen glowing with Jack's name and he kind of hated the forgiving smile Hannibal gave him. He hated that they both knew what was happening, hated that their plans were being messed with, hated their resignation and the fact that Will couldn’t do anything about it. 

He answered the call, not letting go of Hannibal’s hand just yet. Jack rattled off the address and said he’d try to keep the scene fresh for him if he could get there fast enough. 

Will glanced out the shop windows as he shuffled his phone between his hands so Hannibal could take the basket. “I’m nearby, I can be there in maybe fifteen minutes.” 

_”Good,”_ Jack said and hung up. 

Will shoved his phone back in his pants and put his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, eyes closing. “I’ll take a cab in a bit.” 

”I can drive you, darling,” Hannibal said. “Didn’t you say it was close?” 

Will looked up. “Don’t you have stuff to do?” 

"It’s no bother, Will,” Hannibal reassured. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you didn’t bring your wallet with you.” 

Will patted his pockets, wondering if he’d really left it at home. His cheeks warmed when he couldn’t find it. Could he really be blamed for that, though? He never had to pay for anything with Hannibal around. 

”Totally your fault,” Will mumbled. 

Hannibal just smiled, pleased and amused. “Shall I atone by being your chauffeur?” 

”Yeah, all right.” 

Hannibal’s patient never approached them, even as they left, a bag of various cheeses on Hannibal’s arm. He gave Hannibal the name of the hotel Jack had told him to go once they were in the car. It was even closer than Will had though, taking them only ten minutes to reach. 

Jack, who was waiting outside the hotel, approached the Bentley as it came to a stop. Will exited the car, Hannibal following. 

”Thanks for getting here so quickly,” Jack said. “Good morning, Dr. Lecter, are you joining us?” 

”If you’ll have me, I’d be happy to,” said Hannibal. 

Will raised a brow. “You have groceries in there,” he reminded. 

”They will keep,” Hannibal replied. 

Before Will could say anymore, there was the sound of a camera clicking and he caught a glimpse of familiar red hair. His jaw clenched. 

Jack had noticed as well. “Let’s get to the scene.” 

Will and Hannibal followed Jack inside and up to the second floor. There were agents and officers hovering outside one of the doors, likely in deference to Jack wanting to keep the scene fresh. 

”Has anyone touched the body?” Jack demanded the moment they were inside. Beverly raised her hand. 

”I did a _little_ touching,” she said. “Vic's missing a kidney.” 

Will was starting to suspect why he was here. “Where’s the body?” 

Price pointed. “The bathroom.” 

Will nodded and slipped some gloves and booties on. Will brushed his arm against Hannibal’s (for comfort or strength, he wasn’t too sure) before heading for the bathroom, avoiding the trail of dried blood on the floor. 

He found a man seated dead in the bathtub and sat on the edge of it. He ran his eyes over the shirtless and bloody man’s body, then closed his eyes as the pendulum swung. 

  


A few moments later, Will came back to himself, shaking. He took a couple deep breaths and rubbed at his eyes, knowing he shouldn’t. He didn’t have any aspirin with him. He was pretty sure Hannibal had some in his car. He’d just have to last until then. 

”Okay,” he called out. 

Jack, Hannibal and the team filed in. Will stood and crossed over to Hannibal, not caring what anyone thought. 

”Well?” Jack said. 

Will shook his head. “It’s not the Ripper, Jack.” 

”What do you mean? Everything fits,” Zeller said from the door. 

” _Nothing_ fits,” Will retorted. 

”Organs were removed with surgical precision while the victim was still alive, the body displayed after death, there’s even damage to the heart!” Zeller glanced guiltily at Jack. “I may have also touched the body a little.” 

Will just shook his head again. “It’s not the Ripper.” 

Jack crossed his arms. “Why don’t you think so?” 

”One of the Ripper's last victims was a priest sat on a church pew with his tongue between the pages of a Bible,” said Will. “Does this look like it has any of the same—“ _artistry_ ”—theatricality?” 

They all looked to the body slumped in the tub like he'd been dropped there. Zeller shrugged. “Maybe he got interrupted,” he said, “so he couldn’t make a display or take the heart.” 

For the third time Will shook his head, hands clenching into his fists. He couldn’t tell if the worsening of his headache was because of the arguing or the constant shaking. “No one was trying to _extract_ the victim's heart, someone was trying to manually pump it, trying to save them.” 

”Well, they did a great job,” Zeller said. 

Will closed the door on him. He turned to Hannibal whose gaze was still on the body with a look Will couldn’t decipher through the mess in his head. “That’s a thing people do, right?” 

Hannibal nodded. “There are certain extenuating circumstances which could necessitate such a technique, yes. I have never had to do it myself, but I know the theory.” 

”You really think that’s what was happening here?” Beverly asked, curious but not aggressive. 

”That’s what I’m seeing,” Will said. 

”But you don’t see the Ripper?” Price inquired. 

”No, I don’t.” 

Silence. 

”How do you see the Ripper, Will?” Jack said, softly. 

Will breathed in, long, slow and deep, eyes on the corpse everyone was so desperate to pin on the Chesapeake Ripper. Hannibal’s gaze was a physical weight on him. 

He took comfort from it. 

”I see him as something that has survived,” Will said, voice low. “Despite everything and what anyone else thought, he has survived. And he’s going to keep surviving until someone ends him because he’d never end himself.” 

That was all Will could bring himself to say. 

He and Hannibal left soon after that. Jack dismissed them once he’d extended an invitation to the autopsy in the afternoon. They both accepted. 

Freddie Lounds was gone by the time they were back outside, which Will was grateful for. He got in the car, breathing a sigh of relief when he found a bottle of aspirin in the glove box. Even after swallowing a couple dry, though, he remained lost in his head as Hannibal drive them to Will wasn’t sure where. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Hannibal carefully took his hand. 

”Stay with me, my darling,” said Hannibal. 

”I’m right here,” Will promised. “It’s easy to focus on the Ripper. Hard to get lost in him.” 

”What do you mean?” Hannibal asked. The light turned green. Hannibal drove. 

”It’s kinda like you, actually,” Will said, stroking Hannibal’s knuckles. “You’re in my head, but you’re not screaming like everyone else, so you’re nice to focus on. That’s how the Ripper is, too. I _could_ get lost in him and you, but I could get back to myself, _find_ myself through you no problem. I like having you in my head.” 

”What about the Ripper?” 

A shiver went up Will’s spine. His fingers froze and his gaze went to his feet. He bit his lip, unable to answer. 

After some time passed, Hannibal said: “I couldn’t help but notice, when Jack asked you how you saw the Ripper, the answer you gave him didn’t seem to be an honest one.” 

”It was an honest answer,” Will retorted. “Just…not a complete one.” 

”Will you tell me?” 

Of course, Will would. 

”He is something that’s survived and become…become an artist,” Will whispered. “As much as he’s destroying, he’s creating—and he's proven himself very good at both.” 

”You think him a good artist?” said Hannibal. He sounded normal, but there was something off about his demeanor that Will couldn’t his finger on and it had him shrinking in his seat, eyes locked on his hands which had begun playing with Hannibal’s fingers for something to do. 

He swallowed. “Yeah. I can't help but notice it whenever I look at his crime scene photos.” 

”Have you ever personally been to one of his scenes?” Hannibal inquired. 

Will shook his head. At the time the Ripper had been active he’d been sticking solely to investigating cold cases and teaching. 

”Do you want to?” 

Will shivered again. He looked up at the side of Hannibal’s face. “I get the feeling I’m about to.” 

”Why so?” 

”One way or another,” said Will, “word's gonna get out that the FBI suspects our recent killing is a Ripper killing and he’ll get annoyed. He’ll be insulted that they’re trying to pin something so simple and cliché and inelegant and _classless_ on him and he’ll retaliate by showing everyone what the Ripper is _actually_ capable of.” 

Hannibal’s thumb on his wrist calmed him down, made him realize his reply had turned into an angry rant at some point. He ducked his head. Steadied his breathing. Brought his heartrate down. 

Hannibal let him calm. Will couldn’t detect any judgement from him, which Will thought hard to believe but was desperately grateful for. 

Once he felt steadier, he spoke again: “I think whether I want to or not, I’m going to be seeing one of his tableaux soon.” 

”Are you looking forward to it?” asked Hannibal. 

Will’s single nod was a quick, jerky thing, hands going so tight around Hannibal’s he was surprised he didn’t complain. 

”Will you come with me?” Will said. 

”Of course,” Hannibal promised immediately. Will blinked. 

”What if you have patients?” Will pointed out. 

”I’ll tell them something has come up and I must reschedule them.” 

Will spluttered. “You can’t do that!” 

”Why not?” asked Hannibal, sounding genuinely curious as if he himself couldn’t think of a reason. 

_Oh, God._ “I’m pretty sure your patients deserve better than being tossed out the door because I want you to hold my hand while I stare at a corpse.” 

”From what I’ve observed, you actually spend most of your time at a crime scene with either your eyes closed or on anywhere but the body,” said Hannibal. 

”Hannibal,” Will warned. 

They were at another red light and Hannibal turned his head to smile at Will. “Shall I instead promise to come with you if I happen to be free?” 

No. Will wanted Hannibal to throw responsibilities and etiquette in the garbage and be with Will when he could finally lay his eyes on one of the Ripper’s works in person. He wanted Hannibal to be his and only his. 

He violently shoved those thoughts away. 

”I would prefer that promise, yes,” said Will. 

”In that case, that is what I promise you,” Hannibal said. 

_No._ “Okay.” 

The light turned green. 

The rest of the trip to (Will belatedly realized) Hannibal’s house was quiet except for the soft sounds from the speakers, some sort of opera piece that was actually soothing. 

At Hannibal’s, he insisted on carrying some of the groceries in. He trailed behind Hannibal with a bag of eggs and some sort of expensive oil in a needlessly ornate box. He was very careful putting things down. 

Hannibal told him which cupboards things went to, but he was mostly tasked with finding certain things to leave out for experiments and lunch. 

When that was all done, Will took his usual position in the middle of the room but out of Hannibal’s way. He was given a mug of the tea he’d asked Hannibal for and a plate of pear slices to snack on while Hannibal cooked. 

Will leaned his hip against the island, tea in his hands. He really needed to talk to Hannibal about getting a couple more chairs in here. Hannibal returned from his cellar with a bottle of wine which he opened and set aside to breathe. He went to the ingredients he’d told Will to leave out and looked at everything with a critical eye. Will tilted his head. 

”Can you tell me a little about your experiments for today?” Will asked. 

”I was recently gifted some wine by an old acquaintance,” said Hannibal. “I invited her to dinner to thank her and I have been developing a menu to pair with the wine. My intention today is to prepare the same meat with different accompaniments to select which works best not only with the wine but also the salad and dessert I have already selected.” 

”Sounds complicated,” Will remarked. 

”It is,” Hannibal affirmed. “I also find it very enjoyable.” 

Will hummed, hiding his smile behind his tea. 

After separating the ingredients into four groups, Hannibal began cooking. He pulled pots and pans and sheet trays out of various places and turned stove tops and the ovens on. How he kept track of everything Will didn’t know. 

Occasionally, Hannibal would give him a fairly simple task which Will appreciated. In the middle of peeling a very hot potato with a small knife, he shot a glance at Hannibal dropping herbs into some sauce. 

”Hannibal,” said Will. “Why did you stop being a surgeon?” 

Hannibal answered while tossing longbeans in a pan. “I killed someone. More accurately, I couldn’t save someone, but it felt like killing them.” 

”That couldn’t have happened only once,” Will said, trying not to sound like an ass. 

”It happened one time too many,” Hannibal replied. “I transferred my passion for anatomy to the culinary arts; became a healer of the mind instead of the body and I’m pleased to say no one has yet died as a result of my therapy.” 

Will smiled, amused. “Do you still talk to a lot of your old colleagues? You said it was one of them that gave you the wine, right?” 

Hannibal took a small tray of vegetables out of the oven and scraped it into a bowl, tossing it with a mixture of something or other. “Dr. Fauna Greene became a resident at John Hopkins around the same time I did. I still speak to quite a few acquaintances I made at the hospital.” 

”Do you invite them for dinner a lot?” Will asked. 

”Not too often,” said Hannibal. "I occasionally wonder if they only ask to discuss patients with me in hopes I’ll feed them.” 

”Do you not like that?” 

”I don’t mind at all,” said Hannibal. “Cooking for others is always a pleasure.” 

Will glanced at the rapidly filling sink as he dropped the peeled potato into a potato ricer to force it through into a waiting bowl. “I can only imagine the mess you make with a full table.” 

”That reminds me of something I wished to discuss with you,” Hannibal said. 

”Which is?” 

”I’m planning on having a dinner party soon. Will you come?” Hannibal asked. 

Will shrugged. “Sure.” 

Hannibal paused in the middle of setting down plates. “That was a quicker acquiescence than I expected.” 

_Well, I’m planning on asking to move in with you and if you’re willing to put up with dog hair, I’ll put up with your need to socialize,_ Will thought. He quickly decided to give a different, but still true, answer. 

”I figure it won't be too bad if you’re there,” said Will. “It’ll be like the FBI party.” 

”You might be required to do a bit more talking, darling, I have every intention of showing you off,” said Hannibal. 

Will flushed, choosing to concentrate on cleaning the ricer of potato bits. He cleared his throat. “That’s fine. I know you won’t abandon me to the wolves.” 

”Your trust is a treasure, caro mio,” Hannibal said. “Alana will be invited, of course. Shall I extend an invitation to Ms. Katz?” 

Will thought about it. It'd be nice to have another buffer if Hannibal was called away, but Beverly would bring FBI talk with her and…Will didn’t want Hannibal’s _acquaintances_ poking at him even more than they would at finding out he was Hannibal’s lover. 

He shook his head. “I’d rather you don’t. Honestly, I’d like it if Jack wasn’t there either.” 

”Then, he won’t be,” Hannibal declared. 

”I have a feeling I should protest your ‘quick acquiescence’,” Will mused. 

”I ask that you don’t,” said Hannibal. “I want you to enjoy the party, seeing as you’re my inspiration for it.” 

”What?” Will said, blush returning. He put the ricer down. 

”Your being with me is nothing but a delight, mano širdis.” Hannibal went over to take the bowl of potatoes, his free hand taking one of Will’s and pulling it close to place a kiss on its back. His affectionate, possessive gaze made Will’s heart race. 

”Thank you again,” Hannibal said as he dropped Will’s hand and returned to the plates he’d set out, “for coming with me today. You’ve been a great help in narrowing down menu options.” 

Ah. That explained Hannibal’s constant questions about his opinion on this or that ingredient, flavor, spice…

”You are,” Will declared fondly, “ridiculous.” 

”I will take that as a compliment,” said Hannibal. “Do you mind if I call on you taste things?” 

”I don’t mind,” Will replied, popping the last pear slice into his mouth.

”Good,” said Hannibal. “I would hate to serve you something unsatisfactory.” 

Will privately thought that he couldn’t possibly dislike something Hannibal made because of and for him. 

”When will the party be?” Will asked. 

”I was thinking next week,” Hannibal answered. “Wednesday night.” 

”Why Wednesday?” Will reached for his cup and found it empty. Shame, but Hannibal looked about done. 

”We met on a Wednesday,” said Hannibal. 

Will huffed. “Of course.” 

Hannibal shot him a smile which Will returned even as he shook his head. Absolutely ridiculous. Will couldn’t believe he liked him so much. 

”Could you bring the wine and some glasses to the table, darling?” 

Will obeyed. He wasn’t sure where they'd be sitting so he just put the glasses by the head of the table and went ahead and poured out some wine. 

Hannibal appeared shortly, carrying two plates in his hands then going back for another two. The portions were small, obviously, so they could finish everything: each plate had a chunk of twice cooked pork belly but with varying accompaniments. Hannibal also brought out the salad and pre-prepared dessert. 

They sat next to each other, very close though Will wasn’t complaining about it. Hannibal introduced each aspect of the meal and they got to tasting. 

  


=¤=

The autopsy again brought up a long standing question: _What does the Chesapeake Ripper do with the organs he takes?_

”You think the Ripper is a black market organ harvester?” Price asked. 

Zeller shrugged. “It’s a possibility, isn’t it?” 

”Is it?” Jack said, looking to Will. 

Will kept his eyes on a point just below the edge of the occupied autopsy table, lips pulled down into a frown. “It’s as possible as every other theory anyone’s come up with.” 

”It makes sense,” Beverly said. “Every organ the Ripper has ever taken was removed with those important connecting bits to make transplanting easier.” 

”Is it _the_ reason, Will?” Jack said. 

Will could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. He still didn’t look up. “It doesn’t feel like it.” 

Zeller rolled his eyes. 

Will continued. “It just doesn’t fit the profile implied by his crime scenes.” 

”Perhaps that’s the intention,” Hannibal suggested. 

”To throw us off?” said Price. “Make us think he’s some sort of super sophisticated psychopath instead of some organ harvester?” 

”No,” Will said firmly. He looked up at Jack, trying to make him understand. “Whoever took this man’s kidney and the Chesapeake Ripper are two different people. Do they know each other? Maybe, but they’re definitely not the same person.” 

”Could they be working together? Is there more than one Ripper?” Beverly asked. 

Will shrugged. “It’s possible, but…”

”You don’t think so,” Hannibal assumed. 

Will sighed. “It doesn’t fit. The Ripper’s not the type to go inviting people to murder with him.” 

”People change,” said Hannibal. “Maybe he’s met someone he wishes to share his hobbies with.” 

”Well, the cuts aren’t as perfect as we initially thought,” Beverly conceded. 

”Elaborate,” Jack ordered. 

Zeller gestured at the body. “The incisions are a little sloppy, there was definitely some fumbling that happened.” 

”Whoever did this,” Price took over, “was well taught, but lacking in experience.” 

”A medical trainee,” Will said. “One that’s in need of cash.” 

”Is that your official profile?” Jack asked. 

Will half-nodded, half-shrugged. “They have to have access to some place they can work in.” 

”We’ll look into that,” said Jack “Anything else?” 

Will thought about it. He shook his head. 

Jack let out a breath. He was too proud to let his shoulders slump, but there was tiredness in his eyes warring with his determination. “So. We’ve got the harvester to look for and the Ripper overdue for another set of three.” 

”Sounds fun,” Beverly deadpanned. 

_Yeah,_ Will thought, meeting Hannibal’s eyes, both of them recalling their earlier conversation on the Ripper. 

_It does sound fun._


	11. Chapter 11

Dawn was just beginning to break, but Will was already up. A nightmare that he couldn't remember anymore had awoken him several hours ago. He’d resisted the temptation to call Hannibal and instead curled up in a chair with the book on dogs and calmed himself through that. It helped that Winston eventually came to sleep by his feet.

He’d just finished a submitted story about a stray dog saving her future owner’s daughter and pondering whether or not he had the energy to make himself eggs when his phone rang. 

A mix of dread and excitement swelled in his chest as he got up to get his phone on the nightstand. Winston watched him, licking his nose. 

”Yeah?” Will said into the phone. 

_”It’s the Ripper,”_ Jack said. 

Will swallowed. Fine tremors were racking through his frame. “Where?” After Jack gave him a location, Will asked: “Can I bring Ha—Dr. Lecter?” 

Jack didn’t reply right away. _”Sure, Will. Go ahead.”_

Will nodded though there was no one to see it but his dogs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He hung up and dialed Hannibal while looking for some pants.

_”Good morning, darling.”_

Will managed a smile. “Good morning. Did I wake you up?” 

_”You did not,”_ Hannibal answered. _”I’m in the middle of making coffee.”_

”Mind bringing some with you?” 

_”Where am I going?”_

Will rattled off the location Jack had given him, phone tucked between ear and shoulder as he got some jeans on. “Jack thinks it’s the Ripper,” he concluded. 

_”Are you eager to see if he’s right?”_ Hannibal asked. 

Considering that Will was foregoing changing out of the sweater he’d slept in to waste less time, he thought it safe to say he was _very_ eager. 

”A little,” Will said. 

Hannibal laughed softly, able to hear the real answer. _”Should I bring you breakfast as well?”_

”Just the coffee is fine,” said Will. 

_”As you wish,”_ said Hannibal. _”I will be there shortly after you, I think.”_

”Thank you,” Will replied, sincerely. 

_”Don’t thank me, mon chéri. Seeing you is always a treat.”_

Will smiled. Hannibal was ridiculous. 

  


=¤=

Will looked at the man cut in half and seated across from himself near the back of a school bus, Hannibal behind him. His fingers twisted around themselves, heartbeat loud in his ears. 

It was the Chesapeake Ripper. Will could tell just from a glance. 

He stared at the man’s face and turned a bit towards Hannibal. “Is that…?”

Hannibal nodded once. “It is.” 

”You two know this guy?” Beverly asked. 

Will shrugged. “I only met him once.” 

”So did I,” said Hannibal. 

”What can you tell us about him?” Jack asked. He was over by the driver’s seat, given the cramped quarters of the bus. 

_He was a homophobic ass and he didn’t much care about trying to hide it,_ Will thought. He’d put Will in a bad mood for about an hour until Hannibal managed to pull him out of it. It would probably be wiser to let Hannibal answer. 

Hannibal introduced everyone to (what remained of) Andrew Caldwell and told them of the clinic he worked in—the clinic they’d gotten their bloodwork done which was where they’d met him. Hannibal didn’t tell them that, but Beverly’s mischievous looks towards Will said she’d managed to put it together. 

Will chose to look at the exposed intestines instead of her face. 

”So, are we confirming this as a Ripper kill?” Price said. 

”Yeah, this feels like him,” Will said. “What’s missing?” 

”Kidneys,” Zeller answered. “Heart, too.” 

”And a good chunk if the belly flesh, I’d say,” Beverly added. “We still have to properly check.” 

”So, it fits our harvester theory,” said Jack. 

Will shrugged. 

”All right,” Jack said in a familiar tone. “Everyone out.” 

Hannibal gave Will’s hand a discreet squeeze before following Jack out the bus. As the others slid past him, Will noticed his hands were shaking. He wrote it off as being because if the strong coffee Hannibal had given him. 

He was pretty sure it was because he was _finally_ seeing a Ripper tableau in person. 

He shut his eyes and watched the pendulum fall. 

  


=¤=

Will walked into Hannibal’s office for his usual appointment the day after the Ripper body was found. 

Once the door was closed, Will had his arms around Hannibal, leaning his forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal hugged him back, kissing his temple. 

”Hi,” Will mumbled. 

”Good evening,” Hannibal said. “Is the Ripper still in your head?” 

Will nodded. “He always is. Ever since I first read about him.” 

”Is it unbearable?” asked Hannibal. 

”It should be.” 

”But is it?” 

Will shook his head. “Something’s different.” 

”How so?” said Hannibal, leading Will to the lounge. 

Will curled up against him, trying to figure out how to best articulate his thoughts. “It felt a bit…different from his past scenes.” 

”Is it because you weren’t seeing it through photos?” 

”I don’t think that’s it,” said Will. “It’s him, definitely him, I could see him all over the scene.” 

”What was different?” 

”The state of his mind,” Will answered after thinking on it for a bit. “The emotions I could feel in the scene.” 

”Compare them for me,” Hannibal requested. 

Will sighed and shifted to better meet Hannibal’s eyes. “In all his previous scenes there was this feeling of condescension, a feeling of superiority, pride and satisfaction at a job well done. Don’t get me wrong, that was all at yesterday’s tableau, too, but…” He took a deep breath. “All the Ripper’s previous victims did something to annoy him, that’s why he killed them and put them on display, but this one…this one didn’t just annoy the Ripper, he _angered_ him. Whatever he’s done was a greater slight to the Ripper than what the others have done.” 

”Is this concerning to you?” asked Hannibal. 

”A little,” Will said. “It’s not a very big change, but any change from him is…surprising. It probably doesn’t even mean anything.” 

”Let’s think about it,” said Hannibal. “Given your knowledge of him, what do you think could have changed with him?” 

Will shifted around a bit more, Hannibal’s hands on his waist. “You mentioned in the hotel that maybe he’s met someone.” 

Hannibal tipped his head. “Why are you thinking on that?” 

”The display,” Will answered. “He’s always showing off, but the bus scene feels…more.” 

”Elaborate, please,” said Hannibal. 

Will took a moment to put his words together, sliding a hand down Hannibal’s chest. He frowned. Was it just him or was Hannibal’s heart beating a bit fast? Will put it out of his mind for the moment, but made note of it. 

”It’s like he’s showing off even more,” Will finally replied. “There’s something about this particular tableau that feels even more staged than the others. It feels _pointed_. Like its for someone specific.” 

”If we’re still going with the possibility that our harvester and the Ripper are working together…” Hannibal trailed off. 

Will accepted it as a prompt to continue for him. “Then maybe he’s a teacher providing examples for his student.” 

”You’re displeased by this,” Hannibal said. Will’s eyes went down to the knot of Hannibal’s tie. 

”Obviously,” he said trying not to sound too defensive. A finger was tapping on Hannibal’s chest, keeping time with the still slightly too fast beating of Hannibal’s heart. “If the harvester's really learning from the Ripper, that’ll just make them all the harder to catch.” 

”That’s not all of it, is it?” 

_No,_ Will thought. _Who in the world is this person? Why does the Ripper find them worthy of taking under his wing? What makes them so special?_

Will changed the subject. “I’ll tell Jack about all this tomorrow.” 

”You haven’t told him yet?” said Hannibal, surprised. 

”I wanted to talk to you first,” Will answered. “See what you thought.” 

Hannibal was silent for a moment as he did as requested. “The Ripper has presented us a special victim and perhaps has a special person. It’s certainly not too outlandish and considering your knowledge on the Ripper, I would say your suppositions are highly likely to be true.” 

Something clicked. “Do you think that’s it? Do you think maybe the Ripper got angry at Caldwell because he slighted the ‘special person’ and not the Ripper himself?” 

”Is he capable of such?” asked Hannibal. 

Will frowned. “His profile would suggest no. The harvester-as-a-protégé theory is only viable because it fits that he’d want to pass his skills on so his name can live on, but someone he’d kill for…that implies an attachment and affection that he shouldn’t be capable of.” 

”According, at least, to his current profile,” Hannibal said. 

Will’s frown only deepened. “So, someone’s come along that’s managed to, what, change him? He’d let someone have that kind of power over him?” 

”They’ve obviously not changed him too much,” Hannibal remarked. 

”We’ll find out when the next bodies drop,” Will said. _Who are you? How did you get his attention?_

”You seem even more displeased by this possibility,” Hannibal observed. 

Will huffed. He tried to hold his tongue. Failed. “It’s just annoying. It feels like he’s been in my head for so long, always occupying a corner of my brain—he's _my_ prey. I’m supposed to catch him and now someone’s found him before I could and it’s…annoying.” 

”You sound almost jealous of this imaginary person,” said Hannibal. 

Will left Hannibal’s hold, not meeting his eyes as he crossed his arms. “No, that’d be stupid, wouldn’t it? This person’s probably in more danger than anyone else. The Ripper could kill them whenever he wants.” 

”Not if he’s as attached and affectionate as you earlier speculated,” Hannibal pointed out. 

Will got up and began to pace. He wasn’t really sure why he was so annoyed. The Ripper was still human, he was as subject to change as anyone else. That was probably it. He just didn’t like his profiling skills being questioned because of a changed profile. 

It had nothing to do with the Ripper being _his_.

Absolutely nothing. 

Nothing whatsoever. 

”I’m surprised you haven’t taken out any gifts yet,” said Will. 

Hannibal watched him for a few seconds, likely figuring out if there was any point in trying to turn things back to their previous conversation. 

Apparently, he decided there wasn’t. "I’m glad you’ve come to expect gifts from me.” 

Will flushed. “I don’t _expect_ them. It’s just something you’ve been doing for the past few sessions and…”

”You’ve come to expect them,” Hannibal finished for him. 

Will didn’t dignify that with a response. 

Hannibal chuckled, standing up as well. “I had thought to give it to you during dinner later, but if you’d like, you can have it now." 

The spending had to be getting borderline stupid by now, even with how loaded Hannibal obviously was and, _God,_ Will wished he actually cared about that because he just _didn’t._

He crossed the room to meet Hannibal at his desk. He took a box out of his bag and held it out to Will. Will accepted it, hesitating only a moment before he opened it. 

His breath caught. 

It was a necklace made of a thin silver chain with three bars of a blue gemstone that matched the cufflinks and rings set. 

He wondered if Hannibal wanted him to wear everything to the dinner party. 

He’d do it if asked. Maybe even if he wasn’t. 

”Should I try it on?” Will asked. 

”Turn around,” Hannibal instructed. 

Will swallowed. He put the box down on the desk and obeyed. 

There was a soft jingling sound as the necklace was picked up, then Hannibal’s warmth was against his back. The necklace was looped around his throat, the middle bar settling just under the hollow of his throat, the other two an inch to either side. Hannibal’s hands tickled his nape as he did up the clasp, then they slid along his shoulders and down his arms to intertwine his fingers with Will's. He felt Hannibal kiss his neck. 

Will’s breathing had sped up. The necklace was cool on his skin. 

One of Hannibal’s hands left Will’s to appear in front of him with a folded paper towel. “One more thing, caro mio.” 

Will took it. He unfolded it to reveal two yellow feathers, both about three inches long. 

”I found them by my door this morning,” said Hannibal. “I thought you would like to use them for your lures.” 

_That,_ even more than the necklace is what had Will losing his mind. 

He spun around, cradling the feathers oh, so carefully in one hand, and kissed Hannibal. He licked past Hannibal’s lips to play with his tongue, groaning when Hannibal grabbed him by the hips and pulled him close. 

”Thank you,” he mumbled against Hannibal’s lips when they paused to breathe. 

”Don’t thank me, darling,” Hannibal said. 

”I want to,” Will said petulantly. “So, you’re just going to have to put up with it.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “As you wish, mano širdis.” 

Will kissed him again and decided to forget everything else for a while. 

Who cared where the Chesapeake Ripper was when he had his arms around Hannibal? 

  


=¤=

The second Ripper tableau was found two days later on a chill Thursday afternoon. One of Hannibal’s patients had cancelled so he had time to go with Will to the scene. 

The tableau was on the side of the road a couple miles outside Baltimore and for the first time, there were two bodies instead of one. 

Hannibal was a familiar presence next to Will as he stood before the bodies, for now simply looking. 

It was two women, both middle aged and naked, cleaned of blood except for thin streams out of their empty eye sockets. They were posed with fishing wire to make it look like they were whispering to each other. Their open mouths revealed their missing tongues. Neatly stitched Y-incisions marred their torsos. Their bloody eyes and tongues were on the ground by their feet as if they’d just been dropped there. 

Will shoved his hands in his pockets and let his eyes drift away. 

”I feel like I don’t need to ask, but…” said Jack. 

Will jerked his head in a nod. “It’s the Ripper.” 

Jack took a deep breath as if he was steeling himself. “Clear the area,” he ordered. 

Will did his little party trick. By the end of it he was shaking from more than just the cold and the possibly (definitely) unhealthy amount of coffee he’d consumed since waking up at 4 a.m. outside his house with no idea of how he’d gotten there. 

He dug his ever ready bottle of aspirin out of his coat pocket. The movement was enough of a signal for everyone to come back. 

”Are you still getting the same vibe you got from the last scene?” Jack asked. 

Again, Will nodded as he swallowed a couple pills. He was running low. He’d need to buy some more soon. He’d met with Jack yesterday morning and told him the observations he’d shared with Hannibal and the theories they’d come up with during their session. 

Jack hadn’t liked anything he’d said. 

Will looked down at the discarded body parts in the dirt. “They saw something,” he said, “and the Ripper didn’t like what they had to say about it. A lot.” 

”Think we’ll get much out of asking about them?” Price mused. 

”Doubt it,” said Beverly, crouching by the tongues and eyes. “They seem like the gossiping type, the Ripper could’ve been anyone they talked about.” 

Zeller lowered his camera. “How do you know they’re the gossiping type?” 

Beverly rolled her eyes. “I was a queer, Asian kid in a tiny Midwest town, I learned who not to share my secrets with fast so I wouldn’t get mocked about getting a crush on someone.” 

”Well, I think you’re a catch.” 

”Thanks, Jimmy.” 

”What kind of special person do you think he’s found?” Jack said. 

Will shrugged. “It could just be another intelligent psychopath he’s made friends with, but…”

”But?” Jack prompted. 

Will shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

”Are they helping the Ripper?” Jack continued. 

”No,” Will answered immediately. “This was done by only one person.” 

”That doesn’t mean the next one will be,” Hannibal said. 

Will sighed. “No, it doesn’t. He could just be waiting for this person to feel like joining him. 

”Is it the harvester, Will?” Jack said. 

”I don’t know,” said Will. “It might be, it might not be, I can’t tell. The harvester will be easier to find than the Ripper, though. We can just ask them.” 

He resolutely ignored the voice in his head praying for the harvester not to be the Ripper’s _special person_.

Jack huffed out a breath through his nose. “Yeah, we’re working on that.” 

  


=¤=

Will put aside another crime scene photo and ran a hand down his face. He glanced at his mug. It was empty. The nearest coffee pot was one floor down and several rooms over. Too much effort. He grabbed another photo. 

”Will.” 

His head snapped up, eyes landing on Hannibal entering his classroom. For a moment, he wondered why he was here. Then, he remembered. 

”I’m sorry,” he blurted out, cursing himself out in his head. He was supposed to go to Hannibal’s at two so they could go to Will’s final fitting at Adelmo’s and get dinner together. His classroom didn’t have windows so he didn’t know how long it had been since noon when he’d gotten the box of pictures out. He look at his watch and winced. It was nearing seven. Taking travel time and traffic into account, that meant he’d waited for Will for around two hours before looking for him. 

”I’m sorry,” he repeated. He put the photo he was holding down so he wouldn’t crumple it. He chewed on his lip, unable to look up at Hannibal again. 

”Don’t apologize, darling,” said Hannibal. “I know you’re busy.” 

”That’s not an excuse,” Will argued. “I could’ve at least called or something.” 

”I would’ve appreciated that, yes,” Hannibal agreed, reaching Will’s side. “But what’s done is done and here we are.” 

”You shouldn’t let me get away with this so easily,” Will muttered. Hannibal tipped his chin up and gave him a chaste kiss. 

”I’ll be sure to come up with a suitable punishment for you,” Hannibal promised and Will shivered, finally meeting Hannibal’s eyes. 

He swallowed. “I’m starting to regret my words.” 

Hannibal smiled in reply. He took a step back, letting go of Will’s chin and putting some space between them. Will resisted the urge to pull him back. 

Hannibal’s eyes went to the pictures scattered all over Will’s desk. “The Ripper?” 

Will nodded. “I’ve never really asked you: what do you think of the Ripper?” 

”Sum up the Ripper in so many words?” 

”Choose wisely.” 

”I always do.” 

Will watched him poke around the mess of photos and files, his own eyes wandering between long, tan fingers and eyes a peculiar shade between red and brown. There was curiosity and something like amusement there, though Will couldn’t tell why. 

Hannibal picked up one of the photos. Will focused on it. 

”The Wound Man,” Will explained. Hannibal was unlikely to have seen it, pictures were never circulated among the press. “The Ripper's eighth victim, second of his third sounder.” 

”I have heard of it,” said Hannibal. “Though from what I’ve heard, he never completed that third sounder of three.” 

Will shook his head. “ _Officially_ , he didn’t, no.” He pulled a folder out from under everything and flipped it open to show a trainee file. “Miriam Lass was doing some unofficial investigating under Jack’s unofficial orders regarding the Chesapeake Ripper when she abruptly disappeared along with all her notes. No one has any idea what lead she found, no one’s been able to retrace her steps, no one’s been able to make the same connections she did, but we all know she _found him_. The Ripper, however, found her, too, and thus she became the unofficial ninth victim, finishing off his third sounder.” 

”Jack couldn’t have taken that well.” 

”He didn’t,” Will confirmed. “His obsession with the Ripper had to come from somewhere, right?” 

”Why was she not displayed?” Hannibal asked. 

Will rubbed at the ache at the back of his neck, smiling a little when Hannibal moved to massage him. He tipped his head forward to give him better access before speaking: “I think it’s because, as far as the Ripper is concerned, she hasn’t actually done anything wrong. The Ripper has rules, break one of those rules and you die. Finding out his identity is a problem but as long as she followed his unspoken rules, then she hasn’t done anything to warrant a tableau. He’d kill her, but out of respect and admiration for her cleverness, he wouldn’t humiliate her.” 

Hannibal hummed, sounding almost pleased which made Will frown until fingers pressed on a knot in his shoulder and he turned into putty. 

”Would the Ripper think you clever, Will?” 

Will shivered. “I don’t know.” 

”Do you want him to?” 

Will didn’t answer. Hannibal kissed his nape and ran his hands down Will’s arms. He squeezed Will’s wrists, the watch and amber bracelet gently biting into his skin. Where had all the oxygen gone? 

Hannibal let go. Stepped back far enough for Will to rediscover air, but still too close to be entirely appropriate. 

”What of the latest bodies?” 

Will swallowed, spending a couple seconds putting his brain back to rights. He was helped along by budding annoyance at Hannibal’s composure and obvious amusement. 

”They’re weird,” Will finally said, digging around for the autopsy report. “Though, they were weird already considering there were two of them and there were body parts removed but left at the crime scene.” 

”Do you think he’s finished his sounder?” Hannibal asked. 

”It seems like it, right?” Will sighed. “It doesn’t _feel_ like it, though. I don’t think he’s stopping at three bodies this time. There’s gonna be another tableau and who knows how many bodies we’ll find there.” 

”What was missing from the bodies?” 

”Aside from eyes and tongues, they’re both also missing their hearts, livers and kidneys,” said Will. “One of them is missing a lung and her spleen; the other her stomach and a length of her intestines.” 

Hannibal raised a brow. “Spleen and intestines?” 

”Yeah,” Will agreed. “Doesn’t really fit the harvester theory, but…he might just be trying to throw us off.” 

Hannibal skimmed the autopsy report. Eyes still on the file, he said: “You still don’t believe the harvester theory.” 

Will shrugged, shifting on his feet. “It’s a believable theory, it makes sense, I just don’t think it’s the right one. Thing is, I don’t have anything better to offer.” 

”You’ll figure it out, caro mio,” said Hannibal. “I have faith in your skills.” 

Will managed a smile. “Thanks.” 

They looked up as footsteps echoed down the hall. The door opened and in walked Jack, Beverly behind him. He looked surprised to see Hannibal, but overall seemed to be in a good mood. 

”Dr. Lecter, care to join us in catching the Ripper?” 

Will’s heart skipped a beat. 

”How could I refuse?” 

Will trailed behind everyone, mind curiously blank. Was this really happening? Were they really about to find the Chesapeake Ripper? 

Would he really get to _finally_ put a face to the presence that had been in his head for so long? 

Beverly explained what she’d found as they rushed out the building, telling Will and Hannibal about the ambulance footage. They all piled into a nondescript black van already with a waiting agent behind the wheel. 

They got to the private ambulance company, but the vehicle they’re looking for wasn’t there. Beverly set about trying to track it and Hannibal quietly commented on how exciting everything was. It got Will to smile despite the mess in his head. 

He was unbelievably glad that Hannibal was with him. 

They got back into the van, another van full of field agents following behind them as they drove to the out of the way location Beverly had tracked the ambulance to. 

Once there, Will and Hannibal were ordered to stay back—an order Will was all too happy to obey. His brain still felt scrambled, echoing with _Ripper, Ripper, Ripper_ and Hannibal was technically a civilian, it wouldn’t do for him to be put in danger. 

Will slipped a hand into Hannibal’s as Jack and a team of agents approached the van. Hannibal squeezed. 

Jack spoke to someone inside. They were too far away to hear. Will assumed everything was fine until Jack shouted. 

”Dr. Lecter! I need you here!” 

Will and Hannibal shared a glance. Hannibal squeezed his hand again and Will reluctantly let go. He stayed where he was despite the screaming in his head. Hannibal jogged to Jack and immediately entered the ambulance, shrugging off his coat and suit jacket. 

Will took a half step forward, then forced himself to not take another. _What was happening?_

After a few seconds, a man was dragged out the side door of the ambulance and apprehended. One glance and Will knew it couldn’t possibly be his Chesapeake Ripper. He didn’t seem at all like _him._

_Like who?_

He told himself the disappointment he felt was because he wanted to apprehend a menace. Not because he desperately wanted to meet the Ripper. 

He told himself the satisfaction he felt was because they’d managed to apprehend _a_ menace. Not because he was glad the Ripper was still out there to make more art. 

Jack gestured that Will could approach. 

Will hesitated as he stepped forward, though for the life of him he couldn’t say why. Warnings were going off in his head, telling him to stay where he was, mixing with voices arguing about what he felt and why, until it was all just a faint buzzing in his ears. 

His footsteps echoed in his bones, warring with the echoes of his heartbeat as he went to the ambulance. His hands were shaking. He looked inside. 

Hannibal was there, sleeves rolled up, gloved hands inside an unconscious man’s torso. Hannibal glanced up at him—

All the voices and echoes went quiet. Several pieces fell into place to form a picture both surprising and not. 

Hannibal focused back on his patient. Will watched the beast—no, the _monster_ spark in Hannibal’s eyes. The picture in Will’s head formed a message that he knew with every fiber of his being was true. 

_Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀👀👀


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another casual reminder that I have no medical knowledge.
> 
> Please, read the end notes!!
> 
> Other than that, enjoy the new chapter!!
> 
> Edit: by God, we've hit 50k words and I'm not even halfway through this thing yet, oh my goodness gracious

Will sat on the floor, leaning back against a chair, his still sleeping dogs around him. The sun had just risen. Soon he’d have to start getting ready to go to Quantico for the harvester, Devon Silvestri's, interview.

Will hadn’t slept. 

He was still in yesterday’s clothes. He’d fed his dogs, but hadn’t eaten anything himself. Hannibal wouldn’t be pleased. 

He flinched at the thought. Winston whined beside him and Will mechanically patted his head to calm him. 

Will had been trying not to think about Hannibal and the Chesapeake Ripper all night. 

He’d failed horribly at that. Bits and pieces kept connecting in his head and things about the Ripper that had once been a mystery to him were now as easily understood as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. 

The medical background; the ego and arrogance; the sophistication and artistry that were as present in the Ripper’s tableaux as they were on Hannibal’s table. 

His stomach had heaved when he’d put that together. The organs the Ripper took weren’t for selling, no, they were for _serving._

_I transferred my passion for anatomy to the culinary arts,_ Hannibal had said. God, he’d made it so fucking obvious Will almost wanted to slap himself, but no one would ever think it, would they? Dr. Lecter, who was so nice and polite, committing murder and cannibalism? Are you sure you’re not coming with something, dear? 

Will, though, knew. Knew he’d partaken of human flesh before and admitted to killing five men for his sister and heavily implied killing one for Will. 

_I would live and die and kill for you, mano širdis._

Will drew his legs up, pressing his forehead against his knees. 

The Ripper killed those who annoyed him. In Hannibal’s book—Hannibal who was such a stickler for politeness and etiquette—that meant being rude. 

To be rude, to be someone who interfered with the way Hannibal liked things to be, was as good as begging for death. Was as good as begging to be turned into one of his tableaux and dishes which were as much humiliation as elevation, his victims nothing more than material to make art out of. 

For a second (less, than really), Will had wondered why Hannibal let him get away with his own rude habits. 

Then he’d realized it was because Hannibal liked him. 

Then he’d realized, _he_ was the Ripper’s _special person._

The thought, when it had first occurred, had made him gasp. Even now, it sent a shiver down Will’s spine. 

Caldwell had died because of his thinly veiled asshole-ery regarding their relationship and Will’s subsequent bad mood. The women were harder to pin down, but Will eventually pulled up a faint memory of their scandalized faces as he and Hannibal passed by hand in hand. He’d heard them whispering, but had been too distracted by a passing dog to really register what they’d said. 

Hannibal must’ve heard everything. So, they’d lost their judgmental eyes and waggling tongues. Discarded in the dirt as if they weren’t even fit to eat. 

Who would make up the third tableau? What had they done to earn Hannibal’s ire? 

He should’ve told Jack last night. He should be calling Jack right now. Will didn’t have any hard evidence, but it would be easy enough to get it. Text Hannibal that he hadn’t eaten since—God, since _breakfast_ yesterday and he’d drive over immediately with some neatly packaged evidence. Hell, not even that, he just needed to wait for his dogs or himself to defecate. 

The mental image of presenting Jack with a bag of dog poop while rambling about Hannibal being a cannibal was enough to make him laugh. He ignored the hysteria in the sound. 

Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t be turning Hannibal in. He _couldn’t_ and he almost hated himself for it. 

Almost. 

_This person’s probably in more danger than anyone else, the Ripper could kill them whenever he wants._

_Not if he’s as attached and affectionate as you earlier speculated._

Hannibal would never hurt him. He doubted he would even if Will turned him in. Though, it wasn’t fear of retribution that stayed his hand. 

It was his own attachment and affection. 

A part of him was begging to pick up the phone and call Jack. 

The rest of him snarled that Hannibal _his_. Monster and all. 

He loved Hannibal. Loved the monster. 

Loved the Chesapeake Ripper. 

Will shuddered. Fingers dug into his arms. Breaths rasped in and out of his throat. 

_He was in love with the Chesapeake Ripper._

He wanted to go to Hannibal and have him serve Will breakfast and ride Hannibal at the table, the taste of Hannibal’s kill on his lips. He wanted to watch the monster hunt, wanted to see the Ripper create art dedicated solely to Will, wanted Hannibal to make love to him right in front of it. 

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t want any of that, shouldn’t be feeling his cock twitch at the thought of Hannibal’s bloody hand cupping his cheek in that tender way he had while his other held the unbeating heart of someone who’d annoyed Will in some way, presenting it like another ludicrously expensive gift. 

Will desperately, _desperately_ wished he cared. 

Because he didn’t. 

Not a bit. 

He was terrified that he was so unbothered by it. 

But not even that fear rattled his resolve. 

He raised his head. Tired eyes landed on the Ravenstag across the room. It had been there since he’d sat down and had never left. Will wondered if maybe he was asleep after all. 

He watched as the Ravenstag slowly turned into something else: a dark looming figure with the same impressive antlers, its skin was matte and its eyes were yellow and it had Hannibal’s face. 

Will swallowed. Maybe he was dreaming. 

Will stood on shaky legs, patting Winston a bit less mechanically as he shifted. One of his legs had given in to pins and needles and he had to stumble his way to the Manstag who simply continued to watch him. 

It was taller than Hannibal who was taller than Will by only a couple inches. Will barely reached the Manstag's throat. He was just eye level with where its heart should be. 

He reached up a hand, placing it on its chest, unsurprised when he felt nothing underneath it but cool, smooth skin. No thudding heartbeat. No rushing blood. 

Will pressed down and his hand sank into what should be solid flesh but instead felt more akin to wet marshmallows. He was pretty sure he should be encountering some ribs. He could _see_ its protruding ribs, after all, but he felt nothing until his fingers brushed against what he knew was its heart. 

It was cool and unmoving as he wrapped his hand around it. But the longer he held it, the warmer it felt and eventually it gave a single, subtle twitch. 

Clawed hands settled on his hips and Will relaxed into its hold, even as those claws dug into his flesh past his clothes until rivulets of blood ran down Will’s legs to form puddles on the floor. 

He met the Manstag's bright eyes and bared his teeth in something that was almost a grin. 

”I understand why you haven’t said anything, but I’m fucking pissed about it and I’m not gonna let you try and keep me in the dark forever.” 

He gripped the heart tighter, feeling it speed up to a pace almost human. It was beginning to get uncomfortably hot in Will’s hand, but he didn’t let go. 

”I’m not letting them take you away from me. _You’re **mine.**_ ”

Slowly, slowly, the Manstag smiled, showing rows of too sharp teeth. Its claws sank deeper into Will and tugged down, tearing open rips in his flesh that had more blood dripping to the floor. 

_**”Mine.”** _

Between one blink and the next, the Manstag disappeared. Will found himself back on the floor where he’d first sat down. He looked at his watch, smiling at the memory of Hannibal’s fingers on his skin. He needed to get moving if he wanted to make in time to Silvestri’s interview. 

He ran a hand down Addie's back. She glanced up at him and he smiled. “I’m definitely taking you guys with me when I move in with him. He’ll also have to accept that I’ll be bringing in more dogs if I feel like it. If he can bring in dead bodies, I can bring in living dogs.” 

There was definitely something wrong with him. 

But that something wrong made him something right for Hannibal, so how bad could it really be? 

(Pretty bad, most likely, if the rest of society was asked, but they _weren’t_ being asked.) 

He got up and let his dogs out. He laughed a little when he remembered his earlier thoughts on poop as evidence. This time, the sound wasn't drowning in hysteria. 

He set out food for them and made himself toast for breakfast. He showered and dressed and got the dogs back inside before heading to Quantico. 

Time to see if he could fool everyone. 

  


=¤=

Will was dreaming and, for once, he was wholly aware of it. He was walking through a dark wood, _had_ been walking for what felt like forever. His legs were sore and his feet ached, but the thought of stopping never once crossed his mind. 

The Ravenstag was in front of him. It hadn’t glanced back once. It never slowed, never stopped. 

Will refused to let it out of his sight. He had to keep following it. He knew it would lead him to Hannibal and he _needed_ to see him. 

So, Will kept walking. 

Jack still suspected nothing. They’d concluded that Silvestri wasn't the Ripper. Jack was mad about it. Will had just wanted to leave. He couldn’t go see Hannibal just then. Even if he could fool his co-workers, that didn’t mean he’d be able to fool Hannibal. 

He wanted to see him _now_ , though. Even if just in a dream. 

The Ravenstag stopped. Will froze. It turned around. He approached it. Its eyes began to glow a bright white and Will brought up a hand to cover his eyes. When the light gentled enough for him to lower his hand, he found a sight vastly different from what he’d expected. 

Instead of densely packed trees, he was on an open road. Instead of the Ravenstag, in front of him was a gray car and a pair of concerned looking young women. The muscles of his legs burned, but the rest of him was freezing from being outside in November wearing just a sweater and boxers for who knew how long. He felt a puff of air against his leg and looked down to see Winston. 

”Uh, sir?” One of the women said, slowly approaching Will. “Are you okay?” 

”What?” said Will. He wrapped his arms around himself. 

”Are you all right?” she asked. 

Will shook his head. “I think—I think I was sleepwalking.” 

”Do you live around here?” the second woman asked. 

Will looked around. “Are we still in Wolf Trap?” 

The two women exchanged a look. The second poked at a phone in her hand. “A bit outside of it, I think.” 

Will just nodded. He was starting to shiver. 

The first woman noticed. “Do you wanna sit down in the car for a bit?” 

Again, Will nodded. He was directed to sit at the open back door, Winston obediently following. A blanket (not as soft or warm or comfy as Hannibal’s) was thrown over his shoulders. His feet were bleeding in certain places. One of the women grabbed a pack of wet wipes and started cleaning Will’s feet despite his protests that he could do it himself. She introduced herself as Melanie and her friend with the phone as Cara. They were on their way home after a party. 

”What’s your name?” Melanie asked. 

”Will. Will Graham.”

”Is this guy yours?” Cara asked, tipping her head to Winston. 

Will nodded. “He’s Winston. Sorry, do you have any water for him? I don’t know how long he’s been following me.” 

The _I don’t know how long I’ve been walking_ went unsaid. Will’s aching body said he must’ve been out for hours. 

”Sure thing,” said Cara. “You’re lucky she’s got a dog, too, there should be a dish somewhere in the back, lemme go get it.” 

She returned shortly, and dug something to drink out of a bag. She shoved a mostly full bottle of orange juice in his hands and emptied a water bottle into the collapsible dog dish. Will didn’t put up a fight, just twisted the cap off and drank, following Winston’s lead. 

”You feeling better, Will?” Melanie asked, balling up another wet wipe to toss into the depths of the car. 

”A lot,” Will answered. “Thank you both for your help.” 

”It’s no trouble,” Cara reassured. “Should we take you to the hospital? We’re headed to Baltimore.” 

Will hesitated. “I’ve got a friend in Baltimore. He’s a doctor.” 

”You sure he won’t mind us showing up this late?” Melanie asked. 

_Not if it’s me._ “He'll be fine with it.” 

Cara nodded and held out her phone. “Okay. Type in his address and we’ll get going. Winston can ride in the back with you.” 

Will did as told and thanked then some more. They just waved it off. Getting Winston in the back was easy, Will trained his dogs well, after all, and they were off to Baltimore. 

Will was assured that he could go ahead and sleep since the trip would still take about an hour, but he couldn’t. He just kept petting Winston and watching the world go by outside the window. 

He’d never sleepwalked this far before. It made his stomach twist. This on top of nightmares and hallucinations. It couldn’t be anything good. He’d figure it out. If he couldn’t, then Hannibal would. 

His lips curved. Just a little. He’d finally be seeing Hannibal. Nothing else mattered. 

Who would Hannibal serve him for breakfast? 

He forced down a laugh. No need for the women to think he might be better off in a mental hospital. 

There was still a part of him that was screaming that he should be a whole lot more concerned about his lover being a serial killing cannibal; and another that was pissed about said serial killing cannibal not _telling_ him he was a serial killing cannibal, but they both got quieter and quieter by the moment. 

The car eventually rolled up to Hannibal’s dark house. It was about half past four a.m. It only now occurred to Will that Hannibal might be out making another tableau. Hopefully, not. Will didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t in. 

Will rang the bell, Winston and Melanie beside him, Cara waiting back by the car. Will had been given a pair of too small fuzzy slippers to protect his feet the short distance to the door. 

After a minute, a light went on in the foyer and the door opened. Like last time, Hannibal’s carefully hidden annoyance and displeasure disappeared the moment he saw Will. 

Will had to resist the urge to hug him. Winston had no such qualms, running around Hannibal’s legs, tail wagging wildly and barking. “Hi,” said Will. 

”Hello,” said Hannibal as he calmed Winston down. “What’s wrong?” 

”We found him sleepwalking on the road,” Melanie explained. “He asked us to take him here. He said you were a doctor, so you might wanna check his feet, we didn’t have a first aid kit with us.” 

”Thank you very much for bringing him here,” Hannibal said. “I’ll be sure to look him over.” 

”Just trying to be nice,” Melanie said. 

They exchanged a few more words, but Will tuned them out because Hannibal had gotten a hand around one of his and his brain decided nothing mattered beyond that. 

It was right, though. What could possibly matter more than being by his monster’s side again? 

Will was led to a couch, the door closing behind them. He wondered if the women were now on Hannibal’s ‘don’t kill' list for helping Will. They likely were. It made Will a bit happy, though he couldn’t tell if it was because he was protecting people or because it was evidence of the power he held over the infamous Chesapeake Ripper. 

Both should be fine. 

Hannibal disinfected Will’s feet and rubbed some kind of ointment on the cuts. He said it wouldn’t need bandages but he should stay off his feet for a bit. As he spoke, he began massaging Will’s sore legs, slowly relaxing abused muscles with firm, careful hands. 

How could he possibly give this up? 

He couldn’t. 

So, he wouldn’t. 

No matter the consequences. 

Winston tried to get up on the couch next to him and Will hastily told him to stay on the floor. No need to make the spread of dog hair worse. 

”It’s all right, Will,” said Hannibal. He paused the massage to pat a hand by Will’s hip and Winston obeyed, jumping up to lie down on the couch, head alongside Will’s thigh, tail thumping against the cushions. 

”Sorry,” Will said anyway. “He followed me.” 

Hannibal resumed. “You’ve never mentioned sleepwalking.” 

Will winced and didn’t answer. He scratched under Winston’s chin. 

Hannibal made a low noise, disapproval obvious. 

He finished up the massage, leaving Will’s legs feeling like jelly. He sat on the low table in front of Will and brought Will’s hands to his lips. 

”I’m glad you didn’t come to any harm,” Hannibal said. 

Will cleared his throat, lungs tight. “Me, too.” 

His hands were lowered, but not released. Hannibal’s eyes flickered to Winston before focusing again on Will. “Do either of you need anything to eat or drink?” 

”I’m good,” said Will. “Winston could probably use more water, though.” 

”He can stay in the kitchen while you get some more sleep,” said Hannibal. 

Will quirked a smile. “I don’t think I’m gonna be getting much sleep.” 

”We shall see,” Hannibal replied. He stood up and called for Winston to follow him. He picked up a cushion on the way out. Will shook his head, but didn’t comment. Honestly, Winston didn’t need the cushion. Endearing, though, that Hannibal felt the need to give him one. 

Was he doing it in an effort to be a good host or because he liked Will? Would he treat the uninvited pet of someone else so nicely? Then, again, who would dare to try? 

He tipped his head back to meet Hannibal’s eyes as he returned. “I wonder how I’m gonna make it to a bed without walking.” 

”I wonder.” Hannibal picked Will up and Will muffled a laugh on his shoulder. Hannibal kissed his hair. 

The lights were off and the curtains shut when they entered Hannibal’s bedroom. Will was lowered onto the bed, but he didn’t let Hannibal go. He kept his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, maneuvering him into a kiss. He licked at Hannibal’s lips and whined when Hannibal drew back instead of opening up. 

”You need to rest, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”Too keyed up,” Will replied. “You’re gonna have to tire me out.” 

”Well, if that’s the case…”

Hannibal kissed him, immediately reacquainting his tongue with Will’s. He straddled Will’s thighs, careful not to place any weight on them. 

Will felt his cock hardening as Hannibal rubbed against him. He gasped, hands fisting in the delicate silk of the robe Hannibal hadn’t yet removed. 

Hannibal leaned his weight on an elbow by Will’s head and reached his free hand between them. Will’s clothes were pushed out of the way. He groaned as a hand gripped his cock. 

”My darling,” Hannibal sighed, kissing and licking down Will’s throat. He nosed Will’s collar out of the way to bite at his clavicle, making new bruises to replace the ones that had faded. 

Will moved a hand down to touch Hannibal’s cock. He rubbed through his pajama pants first before shoving them down to properly jerk Hannibal off. 

Hannibal grunted. He fucked into Will’s hold, still busy marking Will’s neck. Will kept his head tilted back to give him room. He tried to arch his hips up into Hannibal’s touch, but couldn’t quite manage. He whined, frustrated. 

When Hannibal laughed at the sound, Will scowled. He grabbed Hannibal by the hair and pulled him up into a kiss. How often had Hannibal laughed while dropping breadcrumbs for Will to follow? 

The hand he had around Hannibal’s cock was batted out of the way, Hannibal taking both their dicks into his fist. He jerked them off, cock so perfectly hot and hard against Will’s. Will had a precome slicked hand around Hannibal’s wrist, not trying not stop him, just needing something to hold on to. 

Will pulled Hannibal’s neck to his lips, intent on leaving marks of his own. He was putting them too high up to be easily covered. He needed to show the world that this monster had been caught. He wasn’t as polite as Hannibal. 

It made him almost unbearably giddy, brief anger washing away, to think that Hannibal would let him get away with such rudeness when anyone else would be put on the menu. 

_”Mon chéri,”_ Hannibal groaned when Will broke skin. A drop of Hannibal’s blood landed on his tongue and he eagerly shared it with Hannibal, their tongues rubbing together in an obscene mimicry of their cocks. 

Will was close. He knew Hannibal was, too. He let go of Hannibal’s wrist to tug his sweater up to his armpits. Hannibal latched on to one of his nipples, biting and sucking almost painfully, making Will writhe, then switching to the other to repeat the process. Will struggled to remember what he’d wanted to say. Right. 

”Come on me,” he begged. He once again tried to convince his hips to move with Hannibal, but his aching body wouldn’t let him. “Please, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal shuddered, breath escaping in a rush that cooled the spit in Will’s hard, aching nipples. “Whatever you want, caro mio.” 

He rut their cocks together harder, faster, hand now stationary, but so wonderfully tight. Will gasped, nails of both hands digging into Hannibal’s clothed back. The hated the tiny distance, he wanted skin and maybe just a bit of blood, but not enough of his brain functioned to figure out how to get that. 

”Hannibal,” Will cried. Hannibal looked up at him, hair sticking to his sweaty face. He looked wild and hungry and _God_ , Will loved him, he loved him so much—

Will shut his eyes, biting the words back. He couldn’t say them. Not yet. Not when he was still a little mad. Not when Hannibal didn’t know he knew. He didn’t want Hannibal wondering if the words would still be true after finding out the truth. 

Will wanted the first time he said those words to be when Hannibal was aware that Will was saying it to the monster as much as the person. 

Maybe more so. 

He wanted Hannibal to be as hopelessly wrapped around him as he was around Hannibal. 

Will came. With a broken moan of Hannibal’s name, he came, semen spurting into Hannibal’s hand which he then used to slick his cock as he fucked his fist. 

The sight of his come covering Hannibal’s dick made Will whimper. He wanted to spread his legs and tell Hannibal to spill inside him. Which really wasn’t possible partly because Hannibal was still straddling Will’s thighs, mostly because Will hadn’t been prepped for it. 

He was pretty sure he could take it, but he knew Hannibal wouldn’t do it. The vestiges of the man he clung to wouldn’t let him, but the monster…the monster might be convinced. 

Maybe one day the monster would fuck him. No prep, just a slick cock pushing into Will’s eager body. It would hurt. A lot. The thought had him moaning. 

He reached down to massage Hannibal’s balls, his other hand pushing Hannibal’s hair back so their eyes could meet. Hannibal sped up. 

Will smiled. “Come all over me, please.” 

”Devious creature,” Hannibal growled. Will just laughed and pulled him into a kiss. 

Hannibal made a low noise into Will’s mouth as he came, streaks of warm fluid landing on Will’s stomach and chest, a thick glob right by one of Will’s nipples. 

Hannibal drew back to breathe and Will scooped the glob up and popped it into his mouth, smirking. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed. 

Hannibal kissed him again, stealing the taste of himself off Will’s tongue. Will looped tired, heavy arms over his shoulders. 

”No,” he mumbled, hold going tight as Hannibal attempted to get up. 

”I need to clean us up, darling,” Hannibal said. Will nipped his jaw, kissed him some more. He huffed when Hannibal pulled away again. “I’ll just be a moment.” 

”Fine,” Will conceded, letting his arms flop onto the bed, not caring where they landed. His blinks were already getting longer. 

Thankfully, instead of hauling Will around for a shower, Hannibal just cleaned him up with a towel, saying he should keep his feet dry and uncovered until at least tomorrow, just in case. Once they were in fresh clothes and Hannibal was in bed, Will shifted until he was half on top of Hannibal. If he minded Will’s weight, he said nothing. 

Will glared at him with one eye. “You’re sleeping, too,” he ordered. “I don’t want you watching me all night.” 

”It’s almost morning, my dear,” said Hannibal. 

Will tapped his chest in lieu of a smack. “You know what I mean.” 

”I promise to try to sleep.” 

Will sighed. That was the best he was going to get, wasn’t it? 

Hannibal touched Will’s wrist, making him ignore the lure of sleep for another minute. “Hm?” 

”Speaking of the morning,” Hannibal began, “would you mind terribly if I scheduled an MRI for you?” 

”You think I need one?” 

”I think it couldn’t hurt,” said Hannibal. 

Will shrugged. Internally since he was too tired to do it physically. “Okay.” 

Hannibal let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, caro mio.” 

Will just hummed and surrendered to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I'm having a bit of internet trouble here in my neck of the woods and I'm not sure I'll be able to update for a while. I promise to come back as soon as I can, but yeah. This work will NOT be abandoned, I shall return to you all with more fluff and smut. Take care of yourselves and leave a comment if you have the time (they give me serotonin).


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YA GIRL BE BACK :DD AND SHE BRINGS A DOUBLE UPDATE WHOOP WHOOP
> 
> Also, encephalitis is confusing and I absolutely fucked with both the disease itself and the treatment in this fic. In other words: I am not portraying encephalitis and it's recovery in any accurate way and I hope y'all can forgive me for it.

Encephalitis.

Will stared at his brain scans, compared it to the vastly different normal brain scan example beside it. He wasn’t really listening to what Dr. Sutcliffe was saying—something about treatments and side effects. 

Hannibal’s hand was a comforting weight on his shoulder. It was the only thing keeping him even vaguely in the present moment. 

Eventually, that hand led him out the office and down the hall, but not towards the exit. 

”You weren’t paying attention, were you, darling?” asked Hannibal. 

”Not really,” said Will. “What are we doing?” 

”I’m leading you to a hospital room where your treatment will begin,” Hannibal explained. “Once you’re a bit settled, I’ll pick up a few things for our stay. I’ll take Winston to your home while I get your things, please contact your dog sitter.” 

Will shot him a glance as they entered an elevator. “ _’Our'_ stay?” 

”Do you truly expect me to leave you at this time?” 

Will narrowed his eyes. For the moment, he dropped the subject and moved Hannibal’s hand from his shoulder into one of his own to give it a squeeze. 

”Define treatment,” Will requested. 

”You will be undergoing a round of steroids for 3 days,” said Hannibal. “Upon your release, you’ll be given some medicine to be taken for the next two months. Depending on how things go, you might need more treatment. A relapse is possible, but not too common.” 

”Do you know what caused this?” Will asked. 

”They will be running tests to find out,” Hannibal answered. “A tumor is a possibility and if that is the case, it will be removed.” 

”Only a possibility?” 

”A tumor is not always the cause,” explained Hannibal as they stepped off the elevator. “When it’s not present, determining the cause isn’t always possible. Try not to worry too much about it, mon chéri.” 

”I’ll be fine,” said Will. “I’ve got you.” 

Hannibal stopped in the middle of the hall, making Will stop as well. He brought Will’s hand up for a long kiss, looking at Will with something like awe. 

Will just smiled. 

He tugged gently, not trying to get out of Hannibal’s hold, just trying to get him moving. “Don’t I have to go somewhere?” 

Will was settled into a private room. He had blood drawn while he called his dog sitter. He stared at Jack’s number as he was hooked up to an IV to begin treatment, chewing on his lip. 

Hannibal saw it. He offered to be the one to explain things to Jack and Will let him. The Ripper hadn’t finished his sounder yet, so Jack wouldn’t like Will being away. 

Will wondered if his Ripper would finish the sounder while Will was in the hospital or after he was out. 

After, hopefully. These tableaux were for him, after all. What was the point if he couldn’t see them fresh? 

Will got comfy on the bed, the IV needle a dull ache in his arm that he tried not to exacerbate by moving around too much. 

He glanced over at Hannibal in an oddly comfortable looking chair to the side of the bed. He was reading a list someone had written up; of things Will should and should not eat. 

”You do realize I’m not just gonna let you abandon your patients,” said Will. _No matter how much I kinda want you to._

Hannibal sighed. “I’m aware, caro mio. I will still be meeting with them while you’re here. I’ve simply rescheduled everything to earlier in the day in order to be with you as much as I can.” 

”You should sleep in your own bed, you know,” said Will. “I’ll be fine here, there’ll be people watching me.” 

”I would much rather watch you myself,” Hannibal replied. 

Ridiculous man. 

”I understand, but consider this: if you sleep at home, you can make me breakfast,” Will said, trying to look innocent. 

Hannibal looked up at him, gaze suspicious. Will fought a smirk. 

”Hospital food is gross,” Will tried to reason. “Plus, you’ve already got an approved menu right in your hands.” 

”I’m being manipulated,” Hannibal mused. 

Will put a hand (the one not connected to an IV) on Hannibal’s knee. “Feed me, please?” 

Hannibal released a slow, somewhat shaky breath. “You have successfully manipulated me, mon chérie. I’ll leave for the night and return in the morning with a suitable breakfast.” 

”Then leave for your patients,” Will added. 

”And come back for dinner,” Hannibal concluded. 

”Is everyone really gonna be okay with that?” Will asked. 

”They have no other choice,” said Hannibal. 

Oh, boy. Will rolled his eyes. 

Hannibal looked at something on his phone. He folded up the list he’d been given and tucked it into a pocket. “I’ll go take care of Winston and fetch a few things for you. I’ll return soon with lunch.” 

Will blinked. “Okay.” 

Hannibal got up and bent down to give Will a parting kiss. Will smiled against his lips. 

”Goodbye, darling.” 

”Bye.” 

Hannibal left. Will missed him the moment he turned around. He poked around on his phone, calling the substitute that was practically his students’ actual teacher by this point. 

A few minutes after Hannibal had gone, just after Will had finished explaining things to the substitute, the door opened. Will looked up, thinking it was a nurse, surprised to find Alana instead. At first, he was confused, the he huffed out a breath, exasperated. 

”You know, I was actually kind of proud of him for leaving me on my own without a fight,” said Will. 

Alana smiled as she closed the door. “Well, he left you alone for a few minutes, didn’t he? He didn’t wait for me to be in the room before leaving.” 

”I guess,” Will said. 

Alana sat in the chair Hannibal had vacated, eyes on the hanging IV bag. “Encephalitis, huh?” 

Will nodded. “Encephalitis. They’re running some tests to see if I’ve got a tumor.” 

Alana stuck around for a while, talking about nothing. Hannibal arrived with lunch for all three of them along with a bag of Will’s clothes and things Will had requested. There were also a couple wrapped packages that Will decided not to call attention to with Alana around. 

_Ridiculous,_ Will thought fondly. 

He was announced tumor free by mid afternoon, the results so quick that Will and Alana shared a look, knowing that Hannibal must have done something. 

That meant no one had any idea how he’d managed to get encephalitis, but apparently, that was anything too troubling because it wasn’t too unusual to just not know with the disease. 

Will was eventually left alone, extracting a promise from Alana to make sure Hannibal left. Hannibal wrinkled his nose but looked amused as Will and Alana laughed. 

Once they were gone, Will unwrapped the new gifts from Hannibal. He smiled. 

Two books: one a second volume of the dog book, the other on fishing—interesting places to go and fun stories. Almost definitely part of Hannibal’s ongoing campaign to make Will take a vacation. 

He cracked open the fishing book and thought about it. 

  


=¤=

The second day of treatment was a bit boring though the hours with Hannibal were always enjoyable. 

They’d talked about the dinner party, which Will insisted should still happen as scheduled. He’d be released early Wednesday morning, so it’d be fine, there was plenty of time. He’d kinda sorta maybe been looking forward to Hannibal decking him out and showing him off, to be some different version of himself for one night. 

He hadn’t said so, but Hannibal had seen it. So, Will had gotten a kiss and a promise of _as you wish_.

Will regretted it during the final day of his treatment. 

While he was eating the lunch Hannibal had left him and idly poking at his phone, a headline caught his eye. 

_Another Grisly Piece from the Chesapeake Ripper._

He almost spilled his food all over himself in shock. 

There were no photos circulating. The tableau had only been found a couple of hours ago, but an _”unnamed FBI source”_ had confirmed it as the Ripper. 

Will texted Beverly. 

Thirty minutes later, his food had been abandoned and he had definite confirmation that it was the Ripper, but Beverly refused to send him any photos. 

Will scowled. If Hannibal had spoken to him, Jack likely wouldn’t send him the photos either. Will put the phone down and glared out the window at the inappropriately bright day beyond. 

He was still irritated hours later when Hannibal arrived. He tried not to glare at him too much. 

”What has you upset, darling?” Hannibal asked. 

_You, jackass_ , Will thought. He phrased it differently when he spoke: “The Ripper.” 

”You’ve heard of the latest tableau,” Hannibal assumed. 

Will grunted. “Beverly won’t send me the crime scene photos.” 

”Good,” said Hannibal, running a hand through Will’s hair. “You’re supposed to be resting and recovering, caro mio, not working. What difference does it make if you see it now or later?” 

”Its mine,” Will said, not really thinking about it. 

”No one’s trying to take the Ripper from you,” said Hannibal. 

That wasn’t what Will meant. That tableau was made for _him_ , was _dedicated_ to him and he _wanted to see it_. It was bad enough he couldn’t see the scene itself, but to be prevented from seeing the photos, too? 

”Couldn’t he—“ _you_ ”—have waited until tomorrow?” Will griped. “I could’ve gone to see it myself.” 

”You’re more upset at his timing than his killing people,” Hannibal observed. 

Will flushed. He focused on the last word. “Was there more than one victim? The reports I’ve read don’t say and Beverly won’t tell me.” 

A flash went through Hannibal’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to say that. Will tried not to show how ecstatic the little slip made him. 

”I haven’t heard anything either, unfortunately,” said Hannibal. 

Will sighed as if disappointed. “I want to meet him.” 

A pause. When Will glanced over, that familiar _hungry_ light was in Hannibal’s eyes. 

”The Ripper?” he asked. 

Will made sure not to look away. “Yeah. I want to meet him.” 

Almost unnoticeably, Hannibal swallowed. “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.” 

_God, please._ “I hope so.” 

Will changed the subject, asking about Hannibal’s day. 

They’d talk more about the Ripper some other time. 

  


=¤=

It was early Wednesday afternoon and Will was at Hannibal’s. He’d only just managed to convince Beverly to send him the latest Ripper tableau's crime scene photos. Hannibal had printed them out for him, telling him he was supposed to be resting. 

Will had mentally screamed “bullshit" as loud as he could. Hannibal was as excited for Will to see it as Will was. 

Unfortunately for Hannibal, he’d had to get back to preparing some things for the dinner party so he couldn’t watch Will react to the gift. He deserved it. 

Will was also glad Hannibal wasn’t around to see him desperately fighting back an erection induced by dead bodies. 

Something had definitely gone wrong with him at some point. He’d been told a possible after-effect of encephalitis was changes in personality. Maybe that’s what this was. Not that he really cared. Could _that_ be part of it, too? 

There were two victims again, found in a somewhat hidden part of a large park. Two men, both naked, positioned on their knees, seated on their ankles, bent over so their faces were near the ground, arms extended in front of them, palms up. 

Their upper backs had been fiercely flayed by a whip, but cleaned of blood. Their hands, however, were covered in it up to mid-forearm. In their right hands were their eyes; in their lefts, their tongues. 

The autopsy concluded that the whipping had happened before death. They’d survived the flaying and died of shock from organ removal. The trophies taken were the lungs, pancreas and kidneys of one and the heart, stomach and appendix of the other. The whipping was theorized to have been limited to the upper back in order to not damage the internal organs in the unprotected lower torso. 

_Were those the very organs Hannibal was handling downstairs?_

He dug the heel of his hand against his cock, eyes fixed on a photo showing both bodies from the front. 

He could easily see Hannibal standing between the bodies offering them to Will. He didn’t recognize either of them, but they must’ve done something to him that Hannibal thought offensive. 

So, he’d killed them. Took parts of their bodies. And was now preparing to serve them to Will. 

_Christ, this really wasn’t helping with the ‘don’t get hard' idea._

Busy or not, Hannibal would probably fuck him if he asked. He’d have to explain what riled him up, though. He figured _I got hard from the corpses you left me_ wouldn’t be the best answer. 

He didn’t think Hannibal would kill him if he found out Will knew, but without knowing the exact depth of Will’s care for him he might end up doing something he’d regret. 

He shoved all the photos into a folder and put it aside. He lay back, staring at the ceiling as he lay down. 

He needed to figure out a way to convince Hannibal that he loved the monster, too, without letting Hannibal know he even knew it existed. 

He sighed. That was gonna be fun. 

  


=¤=

Will sat on the space between sinks in Hannibal’s bathroom wearing nothing but a wonderfully fluffy bathrobe he’d already requested to keep. Hannibal said he’d get him two new ones. 

Hannibal had a blow drier in one hand, readying Will’s hair to be styled for the party. He found it excessive and unnecessary, but he enjoyed Hannibal fussing over him. 

After his curls had been teased to fall just so, something startlingly cold was smeared under his eyes and moisturizer was massaged into his hands and feet. The latter had tickled enough that Will had to exert effort to not accidentally kick Hannibal in the face. 

Hannibal called his ticklishness cute and Will tried to kick him on purpose, but Hannibal had anticipated it and dodged out of the way. 

Will only forgave him when he got a kiss as Hannibal pulled him to his feet. Will snuck in another kiss before Hannibal sent him out to get dressed, saying guests would be arriving soon. 

Picking up Will’s suits was the first thing they did upon leaving the hospital. The days of treatment hadn’t noticeably messed with Will’s body, but it had been enough to made Adelmo cluck at the way the clothes didn’t _quite_ lay on him like a second skin. Will had assured that he’d be back to normal in no time. 

He got into the deep blue suit lined with grey silk, a lighter gray shirt underneath, the silver plated buttons cool against his fingers. He was in the middle of adjusting the cuffs when Hannibal appeared. He extended his arms and did a turn for him. 

”You look stunning, darling,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed. “Entirely due to your influence.” 

”Very little is due to my influence,” Hannibal corrected, tilting Will’s face toward him with a finger under his chin, “given the beginning material is exemplary to begin with.” 

”Flatterer.” 

Hannibal kissed him. “Wait for me a moment, please.” 

Will plopped down on a black velvet loveseat next to freestanding dressers in the middle of the large walk in closet. He watched Hannibal get dressed, carefully maintained muscles and tan skin disappearing beneath a bespoke suit. Will huffed. 

”Orange to complement my blue?” he asked. 

”Of course.” 

Literally anyone and everyone else would’ve looked ridiculous in a burnt orange three-piece suit, but, to the surprise of no one, Hannibal made it look good. He finished it off with simple silver cufflinks and a blue tie the exact same shade as Will’s suit. Will rolled his eyes, smiling. 

”Come here, mon chérie,” said Hannibal. 

Will went over to join him in front of the large mirror. Will had to admit they didn’t look bad together. Hannibal did up the top most button Will had left undone and grabbed a silver grey tie. Will tilted his chin up to let him do as he pleased. 

Once the tie was on, Hannibal didn’t smooth Will’s collar down right away. Instead, he took the necklace he’d gotten from Will’s house and put it in place just above the tie, the middle stone over the knot, the other two framing the sides. 

Hannibal kissed the back of his neck after fixing the collar. 

The watch was next, followed by the cufflinks and rings, accompanied by more kisses. Hannibal was in a very good mood, it seemed. It sank into Will, as well, putting a small smile on his face and bringing to life those warm, popping bubbles. 

Will now completely made up, Hannibal looked him over carefully. He smiled. “Truly exquisite.” 

Will rolled his eyes. The smile was still on his face. 

”We should head downstairs, darling, it won’t be long now until everyone is here.” 

”Who are the guests again?” Will asked, following Hannibal out. 

”Mostly people I thought you would find tolerable if not likeable.,” Hannibal answered, “as well some gossips I trust to get accurate word out and whet the appetites of others. Alana will be here, as you know, but so will Adelmo and Giulia. In total, there will be nine guests.” 

”They didn’t mention that this morning,” said Will. 

”They get rather distracted by their work,” Hannibal said. “I’ve always found their passion admirable.” 

They entered the largest parlor room of the house, just off the side of the foyer. Hors d'oeuvres were artfully arranged on tables around the room, servers bearing drinks were already waiting. 

Will approached one of the tables. He smiled as his eyes landed on canapés with tartare or pate and finely chopped herbs. He remembered being spoiled in a bath weeks ago and shook his head. 

”You’re having a lot of fun with this, aren’t you?” Will mused. He popped one into his mouth. _Heart Tartare & Beef Liver Pate_ a little sign proclaimed. For a moment, he wished Jack had been invited. It would’ve been funny. 

_Was that part of why Hannibal did this?_

”Yes, I am,” Hannibal replied. “I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I do.” 

_I think I already do._

Before Will could say another word, the doorbell rang. 

One of the staff Hannibal had hired (half of them were attracted to him, not that Will could blame them) opened the door. Will planted himself by Hannibal’s side. 

”Am I the first one here?” Alana asked as she entered the parlor, her blue wrap dress shimmering slightly in the light. 

”That you are,” Hannibal said. “Its lovely to see you.” 

”You two look dashing,” said Alana. 

”Hannibal accepts your appreciation for his efforts,” Will replied. 

_”Darling,”_ Hannibal gently reprimanded. Will shot him a smile as Alana laughed. 

”How’re you feeling, Will?” Alana asked. 

”Good,” Will answered. “Getting the needle out my arm was great.” 

”Keep yourself healthy and you won’t need one again,” Alana advised. 

”I feel like even if I don’t, Hannibal will,” he commented. 

”I would, however, appreciate you helping me keep you well,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ll think about it.” 

The bell rang again. Alana patted Will’s arm. “I’ll come back once Hannibal’s gone for final prep.” 

”Okay,” said Will. 

”I hope you enjoy dinner, Alana,” said Hannibal. 

”I’m sure I will.” 

She wandered off to one if the other tables as a man and a woman Will didn’t recognize entered the parlor, greeting Hannibal warmly. 

Will readied himself. 

Everyone arrived within minutes of each other. Will doubted anyone would dare to be late, even fashionably so, to Hannibal Lecter’s parties. 

They were, of course, very curious about Will, but he didn’t want to give them too much. He was content to let them think he was just an ordinary school teacher. He didn’t wanna bring up the FBI and Hannibal didn’t mention it either. 

Giulia and Adelmo were a welcome break from everyone, managing to make Will laugh as Adelmo complimented his outfit and asked who'd made it. Will played along, throwing the compliments right back.

God, interacting with people without them trying to rip his mind apart to figure out how he ticked was…well, not perfect or wonderful, but definitely better than the alternative. 

Having Hannibal next to him to take charge once he got tired of talking, on the other hand, _was_ wonderful. 

They’d drifted to the center of the room. Will had champagne, Hannibal didn’t. He sipped at it as Hannibal spoke to a woman about silk. 

She walked off to find conversation with someone else and was replaced by the final two guests: a pair of men, one of them silver haired, the other maybe a bit younger than Will. 

”It’s been too long, Dr. Lecter,” the silver haired man said. 

”The wait’s over now, Dr. Brown,” Hannibal replied. “Allow me to introduce you to Will Graham. Will, this is Dr. Dennis Brown, a cardiologist I used to work with quite frequently and extremely skilled in his field.” 

”You, as always, are extremely skilled in compliments,” said Dr. Brown. “I’ve brought one of my nephews with me: he’s aiming for an MA in psychology, you see, and I thought it would be a good idea for him to meet someone ‘extremely skilled in his field’.” 

”I see I’m not the only fluent in the language of flattery,” said Hannibal. 

”Not flattery if it’s true,” Dr. Brown argued. He patted his nephew’s shoulder. “Introduce yourself.” 

”I’m Matthew Brown,” the younger man said, extending a hand. “It’s really an honor to meet you, Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal accepted the handshake. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Brown. The world could always use more bright young men.” 

_Bright young men, huh?_ thought Will, trying not to too obviously stare at Matthew Brown. 

He didn’t like him. There was something off about his eyes—there was something there that had him itching for his gun. 

It was with great reluctance that he shook the man’s hand. He really, _really_ didn’t like the way Brown looked at him. 

As quickly as he could, he slipped the hand he’d shaken Brown's with into one of Hannibal’s. Hannibal threw him a quick look, but made no comment. 

They spoke a bit more, Will not saying much before the two men left to go mingle. 

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hand. “I have to go do final preparations now, mano širdis. Dinner should be served in ten minutes.” 

”Okay,” Will said, though he really didn’t want to not have Hannibal around while Brown was. 

Hannibal kissed the back of Will’s hand before heading for the dining room and kitchen. Alana appeared at Will’s side almost immediately with her own half empty flute of champagne. 

”How’s social interaction been?” she asked. 

”Not terrible,” Will replied. 

”Now, _there’s_ a miracle,” Alana teased. “I was a little worried about you doing this right after getting out of the hospital.” 

Will shrugged. “I insisted on it.” 

Alana looked surprised. “Really?” 

”Really,” said Will. “I get the feeling he’s been planning this for a lot longer than he let me know and, honestly, I like the distraction.” 

”Well, as long as you’re having fun,” said Alana. 

Will smiled. “Not as much fun as Hannibal’s having with the menu.” 

”What does that mean?” 

”Just little things from our time together,” Will explained glancing quickly at the nearly empty platters of hors d’oeuvres. 

Alana didn’t respond, just smiled warmly. Will raised a brow at her. “What’s that smile for?” 

”Nothing really,” said Alana. 

Will was silent for a suspicious moment, then he nearly met eyes with Brown. He focused on Alana. 

”Quick question for you,” he said. Alana made a curious sound and Will continued. “How soon is too soon to move in with someone?” 

Alana laughed softly, mouth hidden behind her glass. “I’m pretty sure less than three months of knowing each other is too soon, but…considering it’s the two of you? I think you’ll make it work out. I’ve got faith in you." 

”Do you?” 

”Yes,” said Alana, resolute. “You’re good for each other. You make each other happy and that makes me happy for both of you.” 

Will doubted that they were good for each other. Not with the murder and the approval of murder and the fact that Will kinda wanted more murder, but it’s not like Alana knew any of that. 

Will didn’t ever want her to find out, either. Hannibal liked her, she was nice and polite and very likeable, but if threatened, Will knew Hannibal would kill her. Hannibal would have no reason not to. 

”I haven’t talked to him about it yet,” said Will. “So, for now, its our secret.” 

Alana pretended to zip her lips. “I won’t say a word.” 

They spoke a bit longer before a server asked everyone to move to the dining room as dinner would begin soon. 

The large table was perfectly set for eleven, the centerpiece composed of small white and red flowers, yellow feathers and slim silver chains. 

Will took his usual seat to the right side of the head of the table. Alana was across from him and beside him was a woman he remembered was named Lydia Komeda. Will had liked her earlier. She’d scolded Hannibal for taking so long to have a another party. 

”Hello again, Mr. Graham,” she said. 

”Hello, Mrs. Komeda,” he replied. 

”I’m very grateful to you, you know.” 

”Why is that?” 

She gestured to the whole room. “For all of this, of course. He might not have said it outright, but we all know you’re the muse of this meal.” 

Will fought back the heat in his cheeks. He couldn’t say she was wrong, though. 

”Oh, look at you,” she commented. “No wonder he’s so inspired.” 

Thankfully, Hannibal appeared at that point, saving Will from having to respond. The table erupted into applause, Will joining out of amusement. The amount of ego pouring off of Hannibal had Will choking down laughter. 

Honestly, his lover was ridiculous. 

”Before we begin,” said Hannibal, “you must be warned: nothing here is vegetarian.” 

Soft laughter rang around the room, though Will doubted they actually got the joke. Hannibal could reach new levels of ridiculousness so easily. 

Hannibal sat and servers filed into the room with food and wine. Platters were placed in the middle of the table for everyone to take from as they pleased. There were renditions of previous meals they’d had together and sides Will had expressed a particular liking for. 

He gently touched Hannibal’s foot with his and got a smile and nudge back in return. 

There wasn't much talking as everyone ate, or much loud talking, at least. Any loud words were largely compliments in Hannibal’s direction. Anything less would be an insult. How many guests had ended up on a plate instead of a chair? 

Will savored the meat in his mouth, the Ripper’s recent tableaux clear in his mind. 

He looked forward to _shopping_ with Hannibal one day. 

Once the plates were cleared and the platters emptied, Hannibal offered an optional dessert which everyone, unsurprisingly, accepted. 

The servers came with plates bearing an intricate chocolate dessert with a bright red sauce and sugar flowers resembling the ones in the table’s centerpiece. 

Mrs. Komeda laughed softly beside him. “Shall I assume you don’t know what these flowers are?” 

The flowers were small and tightly clustered around each other. The serrated edges were white, then red in the middle of their petals and back to white in the center of the flower. Will tried to remember if he’d ever seen them before. He shook his head. “No, what are they?” 

_”Dianthus barbatus,”_ said Mrs. Komeda. “Said to symbolize gallantry and finesse, more commonly known as Sweet William.” 

Will tried to glare at Hannibal who had been listening in. He couldn’t quite stop a small smile. “You…”

”Me,” replied Hannibal. “I thought briefly about planting them around the house.” 

”Mmhm,” Will hummed. 

Mrs. Komeda laughed again. “I always knew you’d be an absolute sap, Hannibal.” 

”You have no idea,” said Will. She laughed even louder. Hannibal just smiled and took one of Will’s hands into his, choosing to eat with just his left hand. 

More compliments flew as the dessert disappeared. Hannibal said he’d used pig’s blood to enrich the chocolate. 

Nothing was vegetarian, as promised. 

After dinner drinks were served in the parlor; coffee, tea and expensive alcohol. Combined with the free flowing wine throughout dinner and tongues were looser. 

The guests gently teased Will and Hannibal, careful not to go too far likely in an effort to make sure they’d be invited to the next dinner party. And perhaps a subconscious acknowledgment of how dangerous Hannibal was. 

Will still ended up flushing a little at the comments on his age and looks. He didn’t look _that_ much younger than Hannibal, did he? It was all to obvious what they were thinking as they ran their eyes over his suit and jewelry. 

It made his heart race. Especially when Hannibal wrapped an arm around him, a propriety hand on Will’s hip. 

He eventually had to excuse himself, partly because he needed to go to the bathroom, mostly because he needed to calm down before he asked Hannibal to make everyone leave so Will could suck him off. 

He used the downstairs toilet, taking his time as he relieved himself and washed his hands. He checked his watch as he left. He should probably go take his medicine, maybe text his dog sitter while he was at it. 

”Hi, there.” 

Will tensed. He looked up to see Matthew Brown leaning against the wall across from the bathroom. The hallway was empty. 

”Hi,” said Will. He stepped aside and gestured to the door. “Sorry. It’s free now.” 

Brown shook his head, dark eyes fixed unmoving on Will. “I was kind of hoping to talk with you, actually. It’s hard with all those other people in there.” 

_Goddammit._ “I—"

”I’m working with—or, well, _under_ Dr. Chilton right now,” said Brown. “He’s mentioned you a lot.” 

_Goddammit,_ Will thought with a bit more force, eyes going to Brown's shoulder. “Has he.” 

Brown nodded. “Read about you some, too. Though, Ms. Lounds doesn’t really understand you.” 

”Very few people do.” 

”You’re not that hard to understand,” Brown replied. “Not if someone’s really looking.” 

Will bristled as Brown walked closer. “Oh?” 

Again, Brown nodded. He stopped about a foot away from Will, far too close. The hair on his neck rose and he wondered how much damage his rings would do if he punched someone. 

”Are you free anytime soon?” Brown asked. “I’d really like to talk to you some more.” 

Will smiled, knowing it looked more cold than apologetic, still looking at the little clump of lint on Brown’s shoulder. “Sorry, the holidays are coming up, so my job is keeping me pretty busy.” 

”That’s all right.” He held out a card which Will reluctantly took, holding back a growl as Brown shifted to make sure their fingers brushed. “Call me whenever and I’ll make some time for you.” 

”I’ll keep that in mind.” Will made a show of looking at his watch again. “I have to give take my medicine. Goodbye.” 

”See you soon, Will.” 

Will held back another snarl at the casual use of his name. Despite the chill of the eyes on his back, he didn’t look behind him as he headed for the stairs. 

He wanted to just stay in the bedroom, the short interaction with Brown having keyed him up and made him twitchy. 

He figured out why he’d itched for his gun upon their first meeting earlier. 

Brown had a monster, too. Though, it was nothing like Hannibal’s. Not as dangerous or beautiful. It still worried him. Especially with Brown’s apparent interest in him. 

He wasn’t scared, though. There was no better monster than the one he already had. 

He took his pills quickly and returned to Hannibal. Screw it. He was going to ask him to make everyone leave so Will could suck him off. 

They both deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet William is toxic to cats and dogs!! That's why Hanni only briefly considered it instead of actually planting them. Stay safe and keep your little friends that way, too.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A **DOUBLE UPDATE** IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER YOU MIGHT WANNA GO BACK
> 
> Side note: From what I can find Emily Classen might actually be the person singing in the episode??? I'm not really too sure. I'm not good at research.

Will woke up, jaw and ass sore from the previous night. He was alone, but unconcerned. Hannibal would show up eventually either with food or to carry him downstairs. He nuzzled into a plush pillow. Wondered if it was time to take his medicine. 

The door opened. Will squinted an eye open in its direction and saw Hannibal with a tray. “Mornin',” he slurred, voice further muffled by his face still being smushed against his pillow. 

”Good morning, mon chéri,” said Hannibal. 

Will got himself into a seated position, his pajama shirt had become partially unbuttoned in his sleep, but he didn’t bother fixing it. Hannibal slid in next to him, tray between them. Will internally raised a brow at that. He didn’t expect to touch anything beside his coffee. 

”Did you sleep well?” asked Hannibal. 

”No nightmares,” Will answered. It was true. The Ravenstag didn’t scare him anymore, so he didn’t consider the dream he’d had as a nightmare. 

”Good,” said Hannibal. “I hope you’ll call me if you have one.” 

Will stared at him for a moment. Might as well go for it. “I was actually wondering if I could move in with you.” 

Hannibal froze. “Pardon?” 

Will shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I wanna spend as much time with you as possible. I’m taking my dogs with me, though, that’s non-negotiable.” 

A slow smile brought the corners of Hannibal’s lips up. “I suppose now is as good a time to tell you that I’ve been in contact with some contractors to build a shed for your dogs in the backyard. A moving company, as well, in case you’d rather I move in with you.” 

Will shook his head. “I’ll come here. I know how much you enjoy your dinner parties—” _and the hunting beforehand_ ”—and that’d be easier here. Make sure there’s extra room in that shed, I’m gonna take in more dogs if I feel like it.” 

”Of course,” Hannibal agreed, holding out a forkful of sausage and tomatoes. “What do you intent to do with your home?” 

Will made sure to swallow his food before speaking. “I’m not sure yet. I think I’m gonna hold on to it for a while.” 

Hannibal nodded. “I’ll call the contractors later. I believe they can begin this afternoon.” 

”How long have you been talking to these guys exactly?” Will asked before accepting more food. 

Hannibal smiled. “A while. I’d planned to have it built before asking you"

Will almost choked as he laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s what they call ‘putting the cart before the horse’.” 

”I wanted to be convincing.” 

Will just laughed some more. “I’ll start packing when you let me go back to my place.” 

”If you can wait until Saturday, I can help you,” Hannibal offered. 

”Yeah, sounds good,” said Will. 

”You’ll be farther away from your job, is that all right?” asked Hannibal. 

Will shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s not like I have a lot of early morning or late night classes. The biggest issue are the cases, but those are problems wherever I am, so.” 

”Very well, then.” 

They shared a smile before Hannibal fed him more. He ran a finger along Will’s jaw. “It would be a delight to have you call this place your home.” 

”Well, I enjoy your company,” said Will. 

”What a lucky man I am,” replied Hannibal. “Will you be all right while I’m gone?” 

”Yeah, I promise,” said Will. “I’ll make sure to take my meds on time.” 

Hannibal nodded, satisfied. They spoke more on the logistics of moving then Hannibal left to clean breakfast and get ready to go. Will got plenty of kisses before Hannibal went to see to his patients. 

Once he was sure Hannibal was gone, Will got moving, too. He had plans that he didn’t want to share with Hannibal just yet. 

Hopefully, Hannibal would still pay for anything he got from Adelmo’s. 

  


=¤=

Will wasn’t sure if it was concern or a lack of murders, but his first week back was ending without Jack calling him in. He was leaning towards the latter considering the complaints of boredom from the team. 

Will had just finished moving in with Hannibal yesterday once the dog shed was finished. It had taken some time since Hannibal wanted them to have heated floors and their own bathing area inside the shed. There was also a soft couch in case Will wanted to spend some time with them, which he appreciated. There were kennels for if dogs needed to be separated and plenty of room for more dogs. 

Will had spent hours getting his canines acquainted with their new home and establishing off limits areas such as a majority of the house (they were only allowed into the small sitting room across from the dining room which had doors leading to the backyard), the vegetable patch and the outside basement door which Cooper had sniffed suspiciously at. 

Hannibal had made room in his closet for Will’s clothes. New clothes had quickly been added to what Will already had. Will wore them without question. 

He didn’t bring any furniture with him, most of what was in the house came with it and he wasn’t particularly attached to any of it. He’d brought all his fishing gear with him, though. Hannibal made space for his lure making in his art room. 

They’d spent a couple nights there, now. Hannibal sketching or painting while Will made lures until Hannibal took him to bed and fucked him to sleep. 

Moving in together was the best idea Will ever had. 

Will checked his watch at a red light. He’d be home in a few minutes, a bit later than he’d promised, but still with plenty of time to get ready. 

They were going to a performance of a piece from an opera Hannibal was fond of. It was apparently to commemorate a new exhibit in the art museum. 

Will didn’t much care about it, but despite Hannibal making it clear that he didn’t _have_ to go with him, he’d wanted to. He wanted to experience some of the things Hannibal liked. Maybe it would help when he brought up Hannibal’s other hobbies. 

Will glanced at the box peeking out of his bag in the passenger seat. Even if he didn’t enjoy the performance, there were other things to look forward to tonight. 

He parked in Hannibal’s, well, _their_ large garage. Aside from his car and the familiar Bentley, there was a sleek sports car and two fancy looking motorcycles which Will somewhat desperately wanted to see Hannibal on. 

He made sure the box was well concealed as he entered the house. “Hannibal?” 

”Kitchen, darling, you’re right on time,” Hannibal responded. 

”Let me put my stuff away,” said Will. 

”Of course.” 

Will rushed upstairs and hid the box in his drawers before heading back down. They were going to have dinner first then get ready for the performance. 

”Welcome home,” said Hannibal when Will entered the kitchen. 

”Hi,” said Will, accepting a kiss. 

”Are you sure you want to come?” asked Hannibal. “You can still stay home if you wish.” 

Will smirked. “Stop saying stuff like that or I’ll start thinking you don’t want me there.” 

”Never think that,” said Hannibal. “Your presence brings me nothing but happiness.” 

Will just hummed. 

They talked about their day and some of the other performances Hannibal had seen as they ate. They washed the dishes together then showered, Will laughing as they got distracted kissing. 

He ended up on the counter bundled in a robe again. He caught the way Hannibal eyed his stubble and tilted his head. 

”D'you wanna shave it off?” Will asked. “I don’t mind.” He mostly kept it out of laziness anyway. 

”Are you certain?” said Hannibal, thumbing Will’s jaw.

Will shrugged. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Hannibal smiled. Will was unsurprised when he pulled out a single blade razor, he seemed like the type. 

Will’s face was prepped then carefully and efficiently shaved. Hannibal tilted Will’s head this way and that for ease of shaving and to check for stray hairs. Not once was Will nicked. 

”I’ve wondered for some time what you looked like bare faced,” Hannibal mused. 

”Like it?” 

”Of course,” said Hannibal, kissing Will’s smooth cheek. “It’s you.” 

Will shook his head, smiling. 

Hannibal fixed up Will’s hair, this time including a few silver bobby pins that sparkled in his curls. That eye cream and moisturizer followed. Hannibal also smeared something on Will’s lips with a finger, saying it was something like chapstick. 

Once done, Will was allowed to get dressed. He quickly dug out the box and slipped its contents on, careful not to tear delicate fabric. It took a bit longer than expected to put on, especially the top piece, but he still managed to cover everything before Hannibal appeared. He was putting on silk socks over sheer stockings when Hannibal entered the closet. 

”You’re gonna have to help me with the bow tie,” said Will. “I don’t think I’ve ever even touched one before.” 

Hannibal laughed. “Worry not, let me get dressed and I will help you.” 

”Thanks.” Will put on his cufflinks. They were new ones since there was supposedly some black tie rule that cufflinks and shirt studs had to match. Hannibal, of course, would never dare stray from proper etiquette. Will got the jacket on, too, to further hide what was under his white shirt. Hannibal had contacted Adelmo about a tuxedo for Will the moment he agreed to go. They’d done their best not to give anything away when Will came for his fitting. 

He joined Hannibal in front of the mirror when requested. He watched Hannibal do up his bow tie for him, trying to memorize the movements. He figured he’d be needing it a lot in the future. 

Hannibal looked him over, adjusting his clothes a little before turning him so they were both facing the mirror. 

Will’s lip twitched. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you look so low key.” 

”Perhaps if we were elsewhere, I would dare to do more,” said Hannibal. “May I give you something?” 

”What have you gotten me now?” Will teased, not quite succeeding in hiding his excitement. 

”You’ll have to remove your watch.” Hannibal moved to his side of the room, taking a box out of one of his accessory drawers. Will recognized the logo of the jewelry store they’d gotten the blue cufflinks from. For now, he put his watch by one of Hannibal’s ties in its little cubbyhole. 

”I’m assuming it’s some kind of bracelet,” said Will. 

”Yes, but not quite,” answered Will. 

He lifted the lid to show white velvet cradling two blackened silver bangles designed to look like thin branches crossing over each other, scattered with little red stones. Three chains extended from each bracelet connecting to rings, three on the left, four on the right with details done in red stone. 

_Black and red, huh? If I didn’t know any better…_

”Pretty,” Will breathed before kissing Hannibal. “Put them on me?” 

”I was hoping you would say that, caro mio.” 

The rings went on first: on his left pinky, thumb and middle finger; then on his right pointer, middle and ring finger, two going ok the middle. The bracelets had hidden hinges and magnetic clasps so they fit snugly over Will’s wrists. 

It felt kind of like being cuffed and wasn’t that an idea? 

Will did his usual move of twisting his hands around to watch his new gifts catch the light before kissing his lover. And kissing him. And kissing him some more. 

Will forced himself to pull back. They didn’t have much time and Hannibal’s hands were already in dangerous positions. _Not yet, not yet._

”We should go,” Will whispered. 

”We should,” Hannibal agreed. He pulled Will close again. 

Well, just a little more should be fine.

  


They took their seats in the hall just as the lights dimmed for the performance. Will wasn’t sure if it was because of Hannibal intentionally arriving a bit late to limit social interaction for Will’s sake or because of the time they’d spent making out like teenagers in the closet. 

Hannibal had told him a little about the piece being performed though most of it went over Will’s head. It would be sung in the original Italian so Will wouldn’t understand a thing anyways. 

A woman took the stage, the spotlight picking out the glimmer of her dress. The musicians began to play. She opened her mouth. 

_Oh. Okay._

It wasn’t unusual for Will to lose himself in music, not with how his brain worked, but he hadn’t encountered many performances like this. 

Ones where it really felt like the singer _felt_ it, too. The words themselves were inconsequential. It was the pain and longing in her voice that slammed against Will’s senses, made his heart race and his spine tingle and all his hair stand on end. 

It scared him. 

He desperately tried to pull back, away from that siren call, tried to find himself, tried to find—

_Found you._

He squeezed Hannibal’s hand in his and that was enough. Hannibal was just as lost as he was, but that didn’t matter. 

They were lost together. 

And though emotions that weren’t his continued to wreak havoc with his senses, his heart calmed. He let himself get swept away by the waves, knowing that at the end, he wouldn’t be left drifting. Hannibal would reel him back to shore. 

He always did. 

When it ended, they both shot out of their seats to lead the applause. Will glanced to the side; Hannibal had shed a tear, Will himself had shed several. 

”I take it you enjoyed the performance,” said Hannibal once the applause died down and the singer had left. He held out a handkerchief. 

”Yeah,” Will rasped. He cleared his throat and dabbed at his eyes before continuing. “Yeah, she was really good.” 

”We’ll be able to speak to her in a few minutes, if you’d like,” Hannibal said. 

”It’s not like I really have anything to say,” Will retorted. 

”Nonsense. There’s no such thing as an artist that doesn’t like compliments.” 

Will laughed and let himself be dragged off to see the exhibit. 

They plucked some wine off a passing tray as they wandered. Hannibal told him a little about the works on display as well as some of the other galleries he’d been to. 

The Ripper was as well-cultured as everyone always suspected. 

They did manage to speak to the singer, Emily Classen, for a bit, her happiness and pride clear to see. She mentioned she’d seen Will cry, which was a bit embarrassing, but she obviously took it as a compliment and, honestly, it was one she deserved. 

Mrs. Komeda showed up after that. She and Hannibal quickly took control if the room, a social King and Queen holding court. Will stood to the side, responding only when directly spoken to. It was fun watching Hannibal pull strings and have everyone dancing to a tune only he heard. 

It explained why Hannibal enjoyed these events so much. He just liked being superior. 

Mrs. Komeda began gently wheedling Hannibal, trying to extricate a promise that the next dinner party wouldn’t take two years. Inside his head, Will supported her, not wanting to wait so long for more tableaux. 

In the middle of that, two men approached their group. He recognized one of them as the stout man from the cheese store. He had the same adoring look from back then as he gazed at Hannibal. 

Hannibal was (a bit obviously) ignoring him. Mrs. Komeda didn’t let him. “I believe this young man is trying to get you attention,” she said. 

”Hello, Franklyn,” Hannibal greeted, always polite. 

”Hi, so good you see you,” Franklyn gushed, shaking Hannibal’s hand before gesturing to the dark skinned man looking behind him. “This is my friend Tobias.” 

”Good evening,” said Hannibal. 

Will chanced a glance up at the man and fought back a snarl. His hand clenched in his pocket, itching for his gun. He didn’t like the way _Tobias_ looked at Hannibal. 

He didn’t like anything about those eyes. 

”How do you two know each other?” Mrs. Komeda asked. 

Hannibal answered quickly. “There should be some mystery to my life outside of the opera." 

”I’m one of his patients,” said Franklyn. 

Will took a break from glaring at his shoes to internally wince in time with Mrs. Komeda's quiet _ah._ Poor social skills or no, even Will knew it wasn’t the best of ideas to say something like that. 

”Did you enjoy the performance?” said Hannibal. 

”I did,” Franklyn responded eagerly. “I loved it, every minute.” 

”His eyes kept wandering,” Tobias interjected, his own dark eyes fixed unwaveringly on Hannibal. Will wanted to claw those eyes out. “More interested in you than what was happening on stage.” 

”Don’t say too much,” said Hannibal, none of the bite Will knew he was feeling evident in his voice, “you must leave something for us to discuss next week. Franklyn, good to see you.” 

”You, too,” said Franklyn, recognizing a dismissal. 

”Tobias.” 

The two shook his hands, Will fought a scowl. He sipped on his wine. He wondered if Tobias had already killed. 

”Who’s hungry?” Hannibal said. Will shivered. 

Mrs. Komeda laughed. “Your next party had better be soon, Hannibal. We’ll leave his inspiration to you, William.” 

Will smiled slightly. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

She laughed again. Hannibal smiled, too, wrapping an arm around Will, hand on his waist. Will only let hum touch for a second before removing Hannibal’s hand to hold it instead. Hannibal shot him a curious look. 

”I think Will and I shall look around a bit more,” said Hannibal. 

”Of course, there’s so many things to see,” Mrs. Komeda replied. 

Hannibal tried to get an hand on him again as they walked, but Will caught it. 

”What are you hiding from me, my darling?” 

”Wouldn’t you like to know,” Will said. 

”I would,” Hannibal said. 

Will hummed. “Tell me about your favorite gallery,” he said, adding: “Pretty please.” 

Hannibal still looked suspicious, but he answered. He kept sneakily attempting to get his hands on Will who somehow managed to stop him. 

For the most part, at least. Hannibal got a couple touches in. Will figured he was starting to put things together, he wasn’t stupid after all. 

”Should we go home?” asked Will. 

”Will I be getting answers there?” Hannibal returned. 

”Yes,” said Will. “Promise.” 

”Then, we should.” 

There was a bit of a commotion near the middle of the room and Will glanced over. He saw Emily Classen, the side of her golden gown stained with red wine. A man with an empty glass was loudly apologizing. 

Will looked the man over and scowled. “He’s not sorry,” he mumbled. “He wants attention, just look at him.” 

Hannibal tipped his head. “This is unfortunately something Mr. Ericks does frequently.” 

”She doesn’t deserve this,” said Will. “She was having a good night, what an asshole.” 

Emily excused herself, her upset well hidden but there. The man tried to follow her and was stopped by a guard. 

”He'll be dealt with, caro mio,” said Hannibal, “there’s no need for you to get upset, too.” 

Will sighed. “Let’s go? She’ll feel better if people just forget.” 

”We will see her again, I’m sure,” Hannibal promised. 

Will squeezed Hannibal’s hand and led the way to the coat check. Hannibal asked if he wanted to go to Emily’s opera performance in January and Will said sure. It helped Will move on to brighter things as they discussed stuff they’d watched: operas and plays for Hannibal, movies for Will. 

It got him in a teasing mood again, letting Hannibal put an arm around him, but keeping his hand on Will’s hip, stopping any move he made to touch higher. 

Will kissed him before ducking into the Bentley. He spent the drive home playing with Hannibal’s fingers, not letting him touch Will’s thighs. Hannibal shot him another suspicious look. 

Thinking it'd be fun, he brought Hannibal’s hand up to lick the pad of one of his fingers. 

”Will,” Hannibal warned. 

Will grinned. “Yes?” he said and ran his tongue over a whole finger. 

”I would suggest you stop mon chéri.” 

”Why?” He licked another finger, nibbling on the tip. 

”I’m trying to focus on driving us home, darling.” 

”You can do it.” Will sucked a digit into his mouth. 

”You’ve been in a very good mood since we left the hospital,” Hannibal mused. 

Will just hummed, rubbing his tongue against the underside of a finger. 

”Devilish creature,” said Hannibal. 

Once at the house, Will barely waited for the car to stop before he was jumping out and running inside. He hung up his coat and scarf then hugged Hannibal after he joined him. 

”How about you get us some wine?” he asked against Hannibal’s neck. 

”If you’d like.” 

”Thanks. Take your time,” said Will. He bolted up the stairs to their bedroom. 

_Their._ He smiled. 

He got his clothes off, struggling only a little with the bow tie. He left everything on the floor, giddy at the thought of Hannibal allowing such a mess because it was him. And Hannibal would let him get away with nigh anything. 

He kept the bracelets and rings on. They matched so well, after all. 

He fiddled with the lights a little until it was _just_ bright enough to see. He got on the bed, keeping the lube close. He stretched out, getting comfortable, pushing down the nervousness bubbling in him. Odd that Hannibal having a murder basement didn’t make him anxious, but Hannibal seeing him like this _did._

His heart raced when he heard Hannibal’s footsteps approaching. His cock twitched. 

His eyes were on the door so he saw the way Hannibal froze upon seeing him, hands tightening around the glasses and bottle of wine in his hold. 

”Thoughts?” said Will. 

Maroon eyes traced over Will’s sheer black thigh highs connected via garters to partially see through red lace panties, matching the red lace over the black corset around Will’s torso, not tight just snug. 

Hannibal looked _starving._

”The corset was hard to get on,” Will said, his breaths coming faster. 

”I would have helped if you’d asked,” Hannibal replied, approaching the bed, not looking away from Will. 

Will squirmed. “That would have ruined the surprise.” 

”And what a surprise this is.” Hannibal filled one of the wineglasses without looking. “I wonder what’s brought this on.” 

”Nothing really,” Will answered. “I just wanted to.” 

”How fortuitous for me.” He put the bottle and empty wineglass on the nightstand. He took a big sip from the glass he still held then ducked down to feed the mouthful to Will. Will was surprised, but swallowed, hands on Hannibal’s neck. 

He was left gasping when Hannibal pulled away. He returned with more wine which Will eagerly drank down, licking at Hannibal’s tongue for more. 

Hannibal separated from him completely, making Will whine in complaint. Will watched through hazy eyes as Hannibal put the almost empty glass aside and began stripping down, moving just a but faster than normal. 

”May I ask where you got that?” said Hannibal. 

”G-Giulia,” answered Will. “I went there last Thursday while you were with your patients. You paid for this, actually.” 

”Money well spent,” Hannibal claimed. 

Will smiled a little. “There’s a few more, too,” said Will, shivering at the interest in Hannibal’s face. “I’ll show you some other time.” 

”That is a wonderful thing to look forward to, mano širdis.” 

Will raised a hand, wiggling his fingers to bring attention to the rings. “These match pretty well, don’t you think? Daddy’s so smart.” 

”Will,” Hannibal groaned. 

Will laughed. Hannibal was naked now and wonderfully hard. Will dragged him into the bed, sitting him up against the headboard and straddling his thighs. 

”You know, you actually never said,” Will mused, hands running over Hannibal’s chest and shoulders, “do you like it, Daddy?” 

”I like it very much, darling.” 

Will grinned. He kissed him, tasting more of the fruity red wine. He jumped a little when Hannibal pulled one of Will’s garters and let it snap back against his thigh, but he didn’t break the kiss. Not even when he did it again. And again. 

He made a little noise around the sixth snap. He reached down—not to bat his hand away but to grab Hannibal’s cock, dragging his hand up and down the thick, hard length. It felt so hot. 

Hannibal’s hands traced where skin met the fabric of the corset, then went down to squeeze the globes of Will’s ass and make him move. 

Will moaned. He used his free hand to pull his cock out of his underwear. He jerked himself off for a moment before letting go of both their cocks and grabbing the lube. Large hands were still moving him, rubbing their dicks against each other. 

Will poured lube onto his fingers, some of it dripping onto Hannibal’s stomach. He reached back, pulling his panties out of the way. 

”Could you hold this for me, Daddy?” Will requested. 

”Gladly.” 

Will shivered ag the feeling of Hannibal’s fingers on his bare ass, holding the panties, exposing Will’s hole to the air. 

He put his clean hand on Hannibal’s shoulder and rose up to his knees, arching his back. He reached behind himself, thrusting a finger inside right away. 

He was panting a little as he forced another finger in. He was still a bit loose from a precious fuck, but he really was moving pretty fast. 

”You should slow down, mon chéri,” said Hannibal. 

”Don’t wanna,” Will replied. “I want Daddy in me.” 

”That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself,” Hannibal pointed out. 

”Don’t lie, we both like it when it hurts me a little,” said Will, getting a third finger in. It stung but it was the kind of sting that had precome beading on his cockhead. 

”I suppose we do.” Before that third finger was even fully inside, Hannibal was poking one of his own into Will’s body. His other hand briefly squeezed Will’s cock then began pinching and pulling Will’s nipples. 

”Daddy,” Will groaned. 

”Do you want me to stop, Will?” 

"N-no! It feels—so good, Daddy.” Will writhed, fingers mechanically moving with Hannibal’s, hips helplessly bucking, his nipples ached, but he couldn’t stop himself from arching into Hannibal’s touch. 

There were teeth on his neck, dragging against his skin and Will tilted his head wanting Hannibal to bite, wanting him to make Will bleed. 

He wanted to feed the monster. 

Hannibal sucked bruises into Will’s skin which wasn’t really what Will wanted, but this was fine. More than fine. 

”Daddy,” he moaned as a finger—he didn’t know whose—touched his prostate. 

Hannibal licked up to Will’s ear, dipping inside before whispering: “Sometimes I wonder how much you can take.” 

”Anything,” Will answered immediately. “Anything and everything you want to give me.” 

Hannibal’s chuckle rang with a dark promise. “I will hold you to that. Are you ready for my cock, caro mio?” 

Will cried out. “Yes! Oh, God, yes, please, Daddy, I need you.” 

”Do you want to ride me?” 

”Yes, yes, yes!” 

”Go ahead, my darling.” 

Will pulled out his fingers and smeared the extra lube onto Hannibal’s throbbing dick. He kept it still as he lowered himself onto it, whimpering at the feeling of a large cockhead at his entrance. 

He dropped down, taking it all in in one go. He screamed, nails digging into Hannibal’s shoulder. 

He was silenced by Hannibal’s lips. There was a harsh hand in his hair and an arm around his waist, but he still managed to move, minutely riding Hannibal’s cock because it burned and it hurt and Hannibal’s thick cock in his wet hole just felt _so good._

”Stubborn darling,” Hannibal chided, panting, too. 

”Can’t h-help it,” said Will. Hannibal had loosened his hold so now Will could move properly, bouncing harder and faster on the cock underneath him, throwing his head back at the pleasure. 

Hannibal was immediately sucking on his neck again. He got one hand under Will’s panties, gripping his hip while the other resumed torturing Will’s nipples. 

Will groaned. He scratched at Hannibal’s back, wanting to mark him up, too. His eyes were open but unseeing, everything smelled like sweat and sex, the only things he could hear were their grunts and moans and the obscene wet sounds as Will rode a hard cock. 

Hannibal pulled on Will’s hip and his cockhead began hitting Will’s prostate. Will let out desperate _ah, ah, ah_ ’s with each bounce. 

Will got a hand on himself, jerking his cock, Hannibal murmuring encouragement and approval against his skin. He moved down to tongue at Will’s hard, red nipples, saliva dripping onto the top of the corset. Will kept clawing at Hannibal’s back. 

”I’m c-close, Da-addy,” said Will. 

”Come for me, mano širdis,” Hannibal ordered, making Will whine as his breath ghosted over saliva wet skin. ”Let Daddy see you come.” 

_”Oh, God.”_

Will’s hand flew over his dick, the rings a curious sensation on sensitive flesh. Drool was dribbling down his chin again as he gasped for air. He was just rocking on Hannibal’s cock, but even that was an amazing feeling: a hard, hot, throbbing thickness reaching so deep into his body, claiming him, owning him... 

He came, hot come filling his hand, leaking through his fingers to drip onto his panties and Hannibal’s stomach. _”Daddy…”_

He kissed Hannibal, caught his breath—and started moving his hips again, clenching his inner muscles around Hannibal, wanting, needing him to come, too. He wanted to be filled up even more. 

Hannibal gripped Will’s thighs, likely tearing the thigh highs as he thrust up to meet Will’s bounces. That hungry look that Will adored was all over his face. 

Will brought his come covered hand up. He made sure to have Hannibal’s attention as he licked the come off the rings and chains, moaning loudly. 

”Daddy,” he sighed, letting a chain roll off his tongue, “will you tie me to the bed sometime?” 

He saw and felt Hannibal’s breath hitch. He thrust up harder. “Anything you want, my dear.” 

Will kissed him, his exhausted body unable to keep up with Hannibal, overstimulation burning through his nerves. 

He sloppily sucked on Hannibal’s tongue as hands came to his corseted waist and held him still. He moaned, ecstatic, at feeling semen fill his ass, Hannibal’s cock jerking. 

They slumped against the headboard, kissing as they caught their breath. Will felt like he was floating. 

”Plug me, please?” Will asked. 

Hands smoothed down his sides. “As you wish.” 

Will remained slumped against Hannibal’s chest while he got the plug out of the drawer. He clenched his hole to try and keep the come inside in the few scant moments between Hannibal pulling his cock out and pushing the plug in. Will sighed once it was in position. 

”We should get cleaned up,” said Hannibal. 

”No,” said Will. “I kinda like this. I can do without the corset, though.” 

Hannibal laughed. He massaged Will’s shoulders. “May I sketch you first?” 

Will raised his head to glare at him suspiciously. “You’re not human, are you? How can you still have energy? I want to sleep, Hannibal.” 

”I assure you, I am completely human, darling,” Hannibal said, “and you don’t need to be awake for me to draw you.” 

Will huffed. “Fine.” 

Hannibal kissed his cheek. “I’ll remove your corset when I’m done.” 

”’Kay.” 

Will was eased off of Hannibal and onto the bed. “Get comfortable, mon chéri.” 

He did as told while Hannibal got a sketchpad and pack of pencils from somewhere. Hannibal dragged a chair from a desk to near the bed and sat, sketchpad perched on his lap. 

”Is this fine?” asked Will, shifting a little. 

”What matters is your comfort, Will,” said Hannibal. “Just go to sleep.” 

”All right,” Will conceded. “Good night, Hannibal.” 

”Good night, mano širdis.” 

Will fell asleep to the sound of graphite scratching against textured paper. He dreamt of the Ravenstag. He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping I can return to my regularly scheduled thrice a week updates, but we'll see if my internet wants to cooperate. Rest assured though, that, if the universe is kind enough, I will not be abandoning this work anytime soon .


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slow chapter, mostly setting up the next one, soz.

Will awoke to the faint sound of his dogs barking in the backyard. He stretched, the plug shifting inside him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know Hannibal had removed the corset as promised. When he did open his eyes, though, he saw he’d been put into a deep red pajama top and his rings and bracelets had been taken off as well.

Hannibal wasn’t in the room, as usual. Will sat up, wincing only slightly at the soreness down below. His brows rose at seeing a sketchpad on Hannibal’s pillow, a pen between the pages. 

Assuming it had been left there for a reason, he picked it up. He touched the hard, leather covered back for a moment before opening it to the marked page. 

He flushed immediately. 

It was the sketch from the previous night: Will sleeping on his side, still in the full ensemble with added flowers scattered around and on him. Sweet Williams if he wasn’t mistaken. The sketched Will had a small, content smile on his face. 

Will doubted he actually looked as…pretty as Hannibal drew him, but…well, there was no need to argue with him over that, was there? 

He flipped through the other pages, finding sketches of buildings and a few things he recognized as paintings. There were also not a small amount of random sketches of him. He shook his head, smiling. 

Part of him wished he could draw as well as Hannibal so he could do something like this, too. He’d have to content himself with sneaking photos of Hannibal though his phone camera wasn’t too good. 

There was an unfinished faint outline on one of the pages, catching Will’s attention because everything else was beautifully rendered. He brought it closer to his eyes, trying to figure out what it was. 

Ah. It just vaguely resembled one of the men from the most recent Ripper tableau. As _part_ of the tableau. No wonder Hannibal hadn’t finished it. 

He was smiling as he flipped past it. 

Hannibal eventually appeared with breakfast, putting the tray on the nightstand as he sat by Will’s knee. “What did you think?” he asked, nodding at the sketchpad. 

Will went back to last night’s sketch, fingers tracing over the edges, careful not to touch and smudge the pencil marks. “You’re very good at this.” 

”Thank you,” said Hannibal. “Would you like breakfast in the bath?” 

”Sounds good,” Will said, scratching at a patch of dried come on his wrist. 

”Give me a few moments.” Hannibal handed him a mug of coffee before going to the bathroom and filling up the tub. Will started unbuttoning his shirt while drinking his coffee. 

He’d gotten it off and undone the garters by the time Hannibal emerged from the bathroom. He took Will’s mug and put it back on the tray. Will walked (limping only slightly) to the bathroom on his own though Hannibal helped him with the torn thigh thighs and dirty panties. 

The plug stayed in until they were both under the shower. Will shivered as it was pulled out of him, he was gasping against Hannibal’s neck as long fingers cleaned his hole; thick, body warm come dripping down his thighs. 

”Try not to get too worked up, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”It’s your fault,” Will retorted. 

”The plug was your idea,” Hannibal reminded. 

”Still your fault,” said Will, instinctively clenching as Hannibal removed his fingers.

”You have my most sincere apologies,” said Hannibal, not sounding remotely sincere. They got started on soap and shampoo, then Will was told to get in the tub while Hannibal retrieved the tray. 

Hannibal’s familiar sandalwood scent surrounded him as he sank into the water. His ass was still smarting . 

Hannibal put the tray on the ledge around the tub. He sat next to Will instead of behind him as they ate yogurt mixed with berries and granola and spicy sausage wrapped in rich eggs. 

They discussed their plans for the day: grading for Will, composing for Hannibal. They’d go grocery shopping tomorrow. 

After the bath, Hannibal dressed in his version of home casual which still involved slacks and a button down, but no jacket or tie. Will just slipped some underwear on, grabbed one of Hannibal’s silk robes that he was becoming mildly obsessed with and called it a day. 

Will got his bag and joined Hannibal in the back sitting room where a grand piano and harpsichord were. Hannibal warmed him of the noise as he readied a pencil and empty music sheets. Will said it was fine and promised his dogs wouldn’t be a bother as he opened the backyard doors and let them come in and out as they pleased. Will sat on the carpeted floor by a dark wood coffee table and took out the papers he needed to read, correct and grade, Winston and Daisy settling on either side of him. 

It was warm and peaceful as they worked on their own things, Will occasionally reading out particularly tragic sentences from his students when Hannibal wasn’t playing. 

He stopped in the middle of sharing another bit of disappointing grammar when it reminded him of something. Hannibal looked up from the notes he was penciling in. “What is it, darling?” 

Will shrugged, letting a hand fall on top of Daisy’s head. “I just remembered what happened with Emily last night.” 

”It’s still bothering you,” said Hannibal, sounding unsurprised. 

”Yeah,” Will replied. He leaned back against the couch, tilting his head onto the seat to stare at the ceiling. “She was having fun: she was happy with her performance and how everyone liked it and then some guy comes along and ruins it. _Intentionally_ ruins it. Sucks.” 

”He's an attention seeker,” said Hannibal. “It comes from being the middle child of busy parents. He likes to target those he perceives to be the center of attention. He once attempted to spill champagne on me. Luckily, I stepped out of the way.” 

_He tried that and he's still breathing?_ Will rolled his head to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “So, he’s a real ass.” 

Hannibal smirked. “That he is.” 

”Will he be around at stuff like this a lot?” Will asked. Did this count as entrapment? Who knew. And, since he doubted this would ever come up in a court of law, who _cared?_

”Well, you never know,” Hannibal mused, “life could throw anything his way.” 

”There’s gotta be lots like him, too,” said Will. “People who start things for dumb reasons. That’s why I stay at home.” 

”You still can, caro mio,” said Hannibal, “I would never force you to join me. Though, if you were to accompany me, I’ll make sure to remove such people from your presence with all swiftness.” 

Will laughed. “Yeah. Okay. Is there room on that bench for one more?” 

”For you? Always.” 

Will capped his pen, tossed it atop the pile of unmarked papers and gave his furry companions a quick scratch. He sat next to Hannibal, leaning his cheek on his shoulder. Hannibal began playing what he’d already managed composed. 

”If I recall correctly, there was a piano in your previous living room,” Hannibal said. 

Will hummed. “It came with the house.” 

Hannibal lifted his hands from the keys. “That doesn’t mean you can’t play.” 

Will sighed, but proceeded to tap out a simple waltz. Once done, Hannibal brought Will’s hands to his lips for a kiss. 

”Feel free to practice here whenever you’d like,” he said. 

”It’s not like I’m very good at it,” Will retorted. 

”That sounds like a good excuse for me to teach you.” 

Will huffed but conceded. He wouldn’t mind Hannibal teaching him things. Be it playing the piano or cooking. 

_And maybe some other things, one day,_ Will thought, mind full of posed corpses and breakfast sausage. 

He was thinking of the same thing, hours later, as he sat alone in bed at 3:27 a.m. 

He wasn’t quite sure what woke him up, but he was mad at it. Maybe he shouldn’t brought up Ericks earlier. He didn’t think it really mattered, though. He’d likely been on Hannibal’s shopping list since he’d tried to ruin one of the man’s suits. 

Hannibal’s side of the bed was cold; he’d been gone a while. Hopefully that meant he’d be back soon. Maybe Will should just sleep again? 

He felt pretty awake, however. He wondered what Hannibal thought of late night fridge raids. He slid off the bed; he was about to find out. 

He went downstairs in just underwear and a sweater, feet cold on the floor. He didn’t bother with any of the lights, the windows let in plenty of moonlight and he’d memorized the route the kitchen ages ago. 

He yawned. Maybe he wasn’t awake as he’d thought. Where did Hannibal keep the coffee again? Then again, he couldn’t _quite_ remember how the French press worked. 

Foregoing coffee might be a good idea. 

”Will?” 

Will looked up, halfway through the dining room, to find Hannibal in the kitchen doorway. He’d finished then. 

”What are you doing up, darling?” Hannibal asked. 

It took everything in Will not to roll his eyes. He walked the rest if the way and hugged him instead. “Dunno. I just woke up. Where were you?” 

”Forgive me,” said Hannibal. “I have some cooking projects that needed attending to.” 

Well. That wasn't exactly a lie, now was it. Still, it would’ve been more believable if he wasn’t in a full suit and didn’t smell like he’d just been outside. And like blood. Will instead said: “I was about to do a fridge raid.” 

”Did dinner not satisfy you?” 

”It did,” Will reassured. “I kinda just wanted to see how you’d react, but since I’m already here…”

Hannibal smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Very well. Excuse me for a few minutes and I’ll make you something.” 

”Pretty sure that’s not how 3 a.m. fridge raids work,” said Will. 

”Hush,” Hannibal replied. “Go sit.” 

This time Will didn’t hold back the urge to roll his eyes. Still, he headed for the recently added bar stools (two; wood, leather and steel; right by the marble island)—before veering for the fridge once he deemed Hannibal far enough away. He was probably going to change back into his pajamas. 

The rolling steel table was missing. 

He paid it no mind. 

There was a blue cooler on the island. 

He ignored the temptation to peek inside. 

There wasn’t too much in the fridge, they hadn’t gone shopping yet, after all. At least, not for everything they needed, Will added with a glance at the cooler. They _did_ have everything for grilled cheese, however. There was something fascinating about the fact that Hannibal Lecter had a squeeze bottle of mayonnaise and they always had bread in the house. Even at 3 a.m. apparently. 

He put all the ingredients on the island, a good distance from the cooler before grabbing a skillet. Should he make one for Hannibal, too? 

He was slicing up tomatoes when Hannibal returned in his pajamas, a blanket in his hands. “What are you doing, mon chéri?” 

”I am making grilled cheese,” answered Will. He spread out the thin tomato slices, sprinkling salt and pepper over them. 

”I said I would make you something,” said Hannibal. 

”This is a fridge raid, Hannibal, we’re breaking all the rules.” Will put slices of cheese on the bread, not having the energy to grate it. “In this in between space of 3 a.m., you’re no longer king of this kitchen.” 

”I see." Hannibal smiled and claimed one of the barstools. “Grilled cheese with tomatoes?” 

”Tomato soup is too much work, but it’s a classic pairing, so just stick tomato slices in there as a cheat,” Will explained. “Not sure what to do with the rest of it, though,” he added, gesturing to the remaining third of a tomato on the board. 

”We could eat it as is,” Hannibal mused, “or perhaps, dry them into tomato chips.” 

”I’m gonna leave it to you, then,” said Will. He focused on getting mayo evenly on the bread. The skillet was just big enough to hold both sandwiches at once. Hannibal went ahead and cut the tomato into chunks for them to snack on as the grilled cheese cooked. 

”Is this gonna mess with breakfast?” Will asked, flipping the sandwiches and putting a lid on the pan. 

”Not too much,” Hannibal replied. “I’m more worried about your sleep.” 

Will hummed. “It’s just one night, I doubt it’ll be too bad. More importantly, what are we drinking with this?” 

”I think I have just the right wine,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed as Hannibal stood and went to the wine fridge. “Wine at 3 a.m.?” 

”You said it yourself, darling: we’re breaking all the rules.” 

”Glad to hear you’re on board,” said Will, checking on the sandwiches. He put the lid aside and grabbed a plate; they were done. 

A bottle of wine was placed on the counter then arms were wrapped around Will’s waist, a nose tucked behind his ear. He was smiling as he turned the heat off and put the sandwiches on separate plates. 

”Having fun?” said Will. 

Hannibal kissed his neck. “I should have you cook more.” 

”Just so you can do what you’re doing now?” 

”Perhaps.” 

”Go pour the wine, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal sighed like he was being punished, but left Will to get glasses and pour them half full of wine. 

Will cut the sandwiches, murmuring: “Diagonally, because triangles taste better.” 

”Is that something your father told you?” Hannibal asked. 

”Yeah,” Will said, going around the counter to sit down. “He used pizza and pie to prove his point. It also just feels like there’s more sandwich.” 

”I will take your word for it.” Hannibal pushed the barstools closer together before sitting. Once Will was sat next to him, he draped the blanket over both their legs. 

Will felt a bit nervous as Hannibal took a bite. He fought it back by eating his own sandwich. 

”Crisp and gooey with a perfect hint of acidity from the tomatoes,” Hannibal said. “Well done.” 

Will smiled a small, pleased smile. “Thanks.” 

”Is this something you ate a lot as a child?” asked Hannibal. 

Will nodded. “A nice snack quick enough that Pops was never late for a job, but taking enough time that we could talk for a little. The tomatoes were a tip from someone I worked with on the force.” 

”It’s comfort food,” Hannibal assumed. 

”I guess you could call it that,” Will said. “What about you? What’s your favorite comfort food?” 

They ate quietly for a minute while Hannibal thought. Will took a sip of the wine. Perfect. 

”I don’t believe I have one,” Hannibal finally said. 

_Unsurprising._ “Let’s try this then: is there anything your parents or aunt and uncle made a lot when you were younger?” 

Hannibal swirled his wine around. “My aunt and uncle never cooked themselves, Tėvelis rarely entered the kitchen. I do, however, remember something. Whenever Motina felt cross about something she would take a walk, picking berries as she went. She would return and make fried curd cakes for the berries to accompany. She would always be much calmer afterwards.” 

”So, cheese for both of us?” 

”Everyone enjoys cheese, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”Not sure lactose intolerant people do,” Will retorted. 

”On the contrary, I know several people who indulge despite the consequences,” Hannibal replied. 

Will just shook his head. “Will you make it for me sometime?” 

”Perhaps during our next 3 a.m. fridge raid.” 

”You’re saying we can do this again?” 

”I’ve no desire to stop you from doing whatever you wish, mon chéri.” 

Will polished off his wine, nothing but crumbs left on his plate. “Really?” 

Hannibal raised a brow, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. “What’s running through your mind now, my dear?” 

Will nodded at the doors leading outside. “There’s fireflies out.” 

”It’s far too cold to be going out without pants,” Hannibal warned. 

Will shrugged. “Let’s stay in here, then.” 

Hannibal smiled. He stood and held out a hand. “As you wish. Shall we dance?” 

Will slid his hand into Hannibal’s. Sleep could wait just a little longer. 

  


=¤=

Will sat in the dying grass of Hannibal’s backyard while his dogs ran around. Winston went over to curl up next to him, panting, and Will scratched under his chin. 

He could faintly hear Hannibal in the kitchen behind him, already cooking dinner though it was only midafternoon since it would apparently take some time to prepare. Will was a bit tired from grocery shopping (and not really getting much sleep) but he’d offer some help after a little rest. 

Winston’s tail thumped at the ground as Will ran his hands over him. Addie approached for some affection of her own. 

He hadn’t gotten any calls from Jack. He knew any concern over his health would leave Jack's mind at the Ripper being active again so there _wasn’t_ a new Ripper scene. Will had puzzled over it for a long while because he _knew_ Hannibal had killed last night. 

Then, it had connected. He’d always known the Ripper had more victims than the official count. The thought, however, was initially because there was no way the Ripper hadn’t killed before his first tableau. 

Now, he knew the number must be higher because Hannibal liked to keep his fridge stocked with human year round instead of just for his dinner parties. Hindsight, etcetera. Though, technically, _those_ weren’t Ripper victims, they were Hannibal’s. How many had they killed between them? 

”What are you thinking about so intently, darling?” 

Will jolted out of his thoughts. His hands had stilled on Addie and Winston. He tilted his head back to look at Hannibal above him. His apron was off and his hands were slightly wet from being washed. 

”The Ripper,” Will answered honestly. 

Hannibal’s brows rose. “Why is he on your mind at this time?” 

Will shrugged. “He’s always on mind. I was thinking about his victim list.” 

”What about it?” Hannibal sat down next to him, Buster immediately running over to curl up on Hannibal’s lap. 

”He’s killed more than 14,” said Will. “The first Ripper victim couldn’t have been the first person he killed. There was too much…experience.” 

”Do you think there are more tableaux not accredited to him?” asked Hannibal. 

Will frowned. “Maybe not the kind of tableaux we pin on him now, but not bodies in alley either.” 

”It’s something to look into,” said Hannibal. 

”Not the most practical thing, though,” Will replied. “I don’t know where to start aside from ‘probably not here'. He could’ve started murdering in another country, for all we know, and it’s not like we’ve got a solid MO to look for." 

It had Will thinking. He had a pretty good idea of how Hannibal had begun killing: his sister’s killers and butchers, but how did the Chesapeake Ripper come to be? Paris or Italy, he was sure. He wouldn’t do any official research into it, but he was fairly confident he could find some newspaper articles online. 

They wouldn’t look like his current tableaux, but Will knew they’d still be something to see. 

He focused on Hannibal who'd begun petting Buster as he let Will think. He leaned his shoulder against Hannibal’s. “I’ll think about bringing it up with Jack.” Cooper ran over to lick Will’s face, Will pushed him away. “No, buddy.” 

Hannibal chuckled and wrapped an arm around him. “I cannot fault him for wanting to kiss you.” 

”Ooh, that was terrible,” said Will, turning his head to kiss Hannibal’s jaw. 

”What a cruel remark.” Hannibal grabbed Will’s chin to properly kiss him. Will hummed into it, threading a hand through Hannibal’s hair. 

Will’s breathing was faster when Hannibal moved to nip along Will’s jaw. He let his eyes flutter closed. 

”Should I be concerned with this reaction,” said Hannibal, “considering what we had been discussing.?” 

”You, of all people, should not be surprised to find out I might have a few crossed wires.” _Or several._

Hannibal laughed, breath skating down Will’s neck. His hands wandered down to Will’s hips, sliding back to squeeze his ass. Will jumped. 

”Hey,” he admonished. “Crossed wires or not, this isn’t happening out here.” 

”Why not?” Hannibal licked at a kiss bruise on Will’s neck. “I recall you sucking my cock outdoors.” 

Will shivered, tightening his hold on Hannibal’s hair and shirt. “By a secluded river on my secluded property and in your backyard in full view of your neighbors are two very different things, Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal licked again. “True. I’ve no intention of sharing your with them. Or anyone.” 

”Let’s go inside then and you can do whatever you want.” 

”You always present me such tempting offers,” said Hannibal. He got Buster off his lap and stood, pulling Will up with him. His eyes were dark. “What shall I do with you?” 

Will smiled, knowing he wouldn’t say no to anything. 

  


=¤=

Will fisted silk sheets and pushed back against Hannibal. There was a hard, hot cock rubbing against his clothed behind and a large hand putting pressure on his own cock. 

Not a bad way to wake up, all things considered. 

”Hannibal,” he moaned. 

”Good morning, mon chéri,” Hannibal said and sucked on Will’s nape. 

”Morning,” Will reflexively answered, shivering. A broken groan passed his lips as Hannibal moved his hand underneath Will’s underwear and began stroking his cock. Hannibal’s hips grinded more insistently against Will’s ass. 

”I think—” Will faltered when a thumb teased his cockhead. He struggled to remember what words were. “Um, I think I’m—too sore for you to fuck me.” 

Hannibal bit Will’s ear gently. “Understood.” 

He pulled away from Will a moment. When he returned, he smeared lube between Will’s thighs. Oh. 

”Is this fine?” asked Hannibal. 

”Yeah, yes, please.” Will could be embarrassed about the babbling later. He turned his head, trying to kiss Hannibal, though their positions didn’t allow them to do it comfortably. He still got a tongue other than his own in his mouth, though, so mission accomplished. 

He felt Hannibal shifting to push his pajama pants down. A second later, his cock was sliding between Will’s slicked thighs, making him moan around Hannibal’s tongue. 

”Keep you legs tight for me, darling,” Hannibal murmured. 

Will obeyed. He gripped the sheets even tighter, worrying about ripping them for only a second before he was distracted. 

He cried out when Hannibal grabbed his cock again, stroking quickly. Will squirmed, wanting to thrust into Hannibal’s hand but not wanting to move his legs from their position squeezing Hannibal’s cock. He could feel it nudging his balls. He moaned. 

”Enjoying yourself?” Hannibal panted. 

”A lot,” Will responded. He rubbed his thighs together, trying to give Hannibal more pleasure and was rewarded by Hannibal jerking him off faster, gripping him tighter. 

Hannibal’s other hand slipped underneath Will to gently wrap around Will’s neck, a warm, gentle yet inescapable presence that had Will trembling. 

_”Hannibal.”_

Hannibal thrust harder, Will out a hand on his hip to encourage him. Hannibal was so hard, so hot, so good…

”Please, Hannibal.” 

”Do you want to come, caro mio?” Hannibal played with Will’s balls and put more pressure on his throat. 

_”Ah…”_

”I’ll take that as a yes.” 

_”Mm…”_

Hannibal nosed the neck of Will’s sweater out of the way to suck and bite at his neck. Will kept moving into Hannibal’s hand and around his cock. He could feel Hannibal was close, too, from the stuttering of his hips. 

Will reached down, getting his hand between his legs to cup the underside of Hannibal’s throbbing erection. Hannibal was thumbing Will’s slit insistently, squeezing the head. Will closed his eyes, giving in to sensation happily while Hannibal murmured in what sounded like Lithuanian against his neck. 

With all that happening, Will came quickly, crying out Hannibal’s name. 

Hannibal fucked between his legs harder and faster, feeling so, _so,_ good. Will kissed at whatever part of Hannibal his lips could reach, begging: “Come on me, please. Please, Hannibal, come on me, please, please, please…”

”Mano širdis, mano vienintelė meilė.” 

Come splashed all over Will’s hand and thighs, Hannibal shaking slightly behind him. He brought his hand up and began licking it clean. He liked how Hannibal tasted. He wanted to have it everyday. 

”That’s not a proper breakfast, darling,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed, but before he could properly reply, his phone rang. He swore. “That can't be good.” 

Will got it off the nightstand with his clean hand, still licking the other. Hannibal remained curled around him even as he sat up (flushing slightly at the squelch of lube and semen on his thighs), he hooked his chin over Will’s shoulder. 

It was Jack. Of course, it was Jack. 

”Where am I going?” Will asked, slightly muffled by a finger in his mouth. He nodded along as Jack relayed the address. He almost told Jack it would take him a couple hours to get there, until he remembered where he was and realized it would only take him a little under an hour at most. 

He still said it would take him _over_ an hour to get there. 

He dropped his phone onto the bed and smuggled back against Hannibal’s chest. He got a kiss on the cheek. He didn’t wanna leave. 

Hannibal squeezed his waist. “You should go shower while I make you something to eat on the way.” 

Will sighed. “I don’t want to.” 

”Well, you can always quit, mon chéri.” 

Will shook his head with a yawn. “You know as well as I do that Jack would never let me." He sighed again, then kissed his adorable messy haired lover before heading for the bathroom. 

He had a corpse in a concert hall to meet. 

  


=¤=

Will was alone as he approached the corpse cello. Jack had already cleared the area for him and he’d declined Hannibal’s offer of company since he knew Hannibal had patients to get to. 

He walked around the (stinking) body. He stopped behind it and looked out at the audience seats. He let his eyes fall closed and watched the pendulum swing. 

  


When he opened his eyes again, the killer’s serenade still ringing in his head, he saw his Ravenstag standing amongst the red velvet seats. 

Something clicked and he clenched his fists. He called for Jack, a bit more curt than normal due to his irritation. 

He wasn’t going to let this killer get what they wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the Lithuanian bit should be "my only love" but, like, I got that from Google translate, so...........please correct me


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of Googling done for this chapter, if you spot anything inaccurate or incorrect, please tell me!!
> 
> I lifted some dialogue directly from the show in this chapter (I've done it in some previous ones, too, but it's most prominent in this one), in case that's important knowledge.
> 
> Did Will kill Stammets?? I can't actually remember, whoops.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading!! (Despite how bad I am at writing fight scenes.)

Annoyance was still prickling under Will’s skin when he got home minutes before dinnertime. It itched like ants crawling all over him, but there was nothing he could do to make it stop.

Hannibal walked into the entryway just as Will picked up his bag after hanging up his coat and scarf. He dropped it again and didn’t even let Hannibal welcome him home before Will had thrown his arms around him and dragged him into a kiss. 

Hannibal took a moment to respond, but kissed him back, opening his mouth when Will demanded to be let in. Will pulled him even closer, pressing their bodies as close together as he could with clothes still between them. 

Will drew back and leaned his shoulder on Hannibal’s shoulder, idly squeezing Hannibal’s biceps. That goddamned serenade had finally silenced and the ants had disappeared. He sighed. 

Hannibal smothered his hands up and down Will’s back. “Is your latest killer still in your head?” 

”Not anymore.” He kissed Hannibal’s neck. “What’s for dinner?” 

”I thought to make you something from Lithuania,” said Hannibal. “Cepelinai: large pork dumplings made with potato dough and served with a sour cream and bacon sauce. They were originally called didzkukuliai.” 

”Sounds good.” Will wondered who it was made of. “Feed me?” he added compulsively. 

Hannibal’s brows ticked up in surprised even as his lips curved in a small smile. “As you wish, mon chéri.” 

Will felt something in his chest loosen. He grinned. 

He waited until everything was on the table and Hannibal was seated before sitting down himself on Hannibal’s lap. 

That small delighted smile didn’t go anywhere as Hannibal fed Will bites of the fist sized dumpling. Will attempted to pronounce both names of the dish, Hannibal coaching him through it until he sounded kind of right. 

He etched the look on Hannibal’s face into his memory, vindictively thinking that this was _his_ and no one else had or would ever have that privilege. 

_Take that._

Hannibal squeezed his thigh. “Something is still frustrating you.” 

”Jack’s new killer is annoying.” Will shrugged. 

”Can you tell me about it?” 

Will scowled. Talking to Hannibal about his cases always helped, but he didn’t want to tell him about _this_ one, but he couldn’t have Hannibal thinking he didn’t trust him, but he really, really, _really_ didn’t want to tell Hannibal about this case. 

He sighed. “You’ve heard about how the body was found?” 

”Ms. Lounds managed to take a few photos,” said Hannibal. 

Will huffed. “Don’t annoy me even more, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal kissed his hair. “You have my deepest apologies, caro mio.” 

”At least it spares me explaining that,” Will admitted. “The killer was putting on a performance.” 

”He’s a poet and a psychopath,” Hannibal remarked. 

”And a craftsman,” Will reluctantly added. “He was shrinking and tanning the vocal chords.” 

”Like turning iron wire into musical steel string.” Hannibal fed Will another forkful of cepelinas. “Was there olive oil?” 

Will nodded, chewing. 

Hannibal tipped his head as if he’d expected the answer. “Whatever sound they were trying to produce was an authentic one. Olive oil hasn’t been used in the production of cat gut for over a century. It was said to increase the life of the strings and create a sweeter, more melodious sound.” 

The chunk of food went down Will’s throat feeling like a rock and tasting not too far off. 

"You said the killer was performing—who were they performing for?” Hannibal asked. 

Will scowled and grabbed his wine. 

A corner of Hannibal’s lip twitched up. “You _know_ who and that’s what has you in such a dark mood.” 

”Maybe,” Will grumbled against the lip of his glass. 

”To whom do you think their performance is dedicated?” said Hannibal. 

Will watched Hannibal from the corner of his eye as he spoke. “The Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Will had prepared himself for any reaction: curiosity to delight, he could’ve handled it—but the lack of a reaction he received was so, so much worse. 

Somehow, the killer had already shown Hannibal that the song that had been playing in Will’s head all day was for him. 

It was both terrifying and infuriating. 

He fisted Hannibal’s jacket, almost spilling wine on the both of them as he leaned in close to press their foreheads together. “The Ripper’s mine. This musician’s not gonna have him, I can’t believe they even think they can.” 

Hannibal’s smile did little to appease him. “If the Ripper is anything as smart as everyone thinks he is, he’ll know you’re a much better choice to show himself to than anyone else.” 

That did much more to calm Will down. Though, not entirely. 

”It’s playing again,” he said, slumping back onto Hannibal’s chest. 

”You murderer’s serenade?” 

Will nodded. He let himself be fed another bite of cepelinas. 

”Would you like me to play something for you later?” Hannibal offered. 

Will shrugged. It couldn’t make things worse. 

Will got another kiss on his hair. “I’ll play for as long as you need me to,” said Hannibal. 

Will breathed. 

  


=¤=

Hannibal allowed his mind to wander as he drove to Chordophone String Shop. He had little interest in Tobias Budge and his attempts at seduction, but something could be made of him yet. 

He was on thin ice as it was for what he’d put Dear Will through the previous night. It had been a pleasure, however, to comfort and distract him from the dark clouds gathered over his head. 

He couldn’t stop a smile. He dedicated part of his mind to driving while the rest of him wandered through the halls of his memory palace to recollections of the previous night. 

A delightful remembrance of His Will’s weight (still a bit too light for Hannibal’s tastes) on his thighs, accepting food from his hands—a meal he’d killed and cooked himself. His darling had been breathtaking as he wrapped his lips around forkfuls of Aaron Ericks. 

Mr. Ericks had been truly elevated. From a pig who had caused Dear Will such upset to a dish which earned His Will’s compliments, providing him energy and life as Hannibal pleasured him into exhaustion. 

What a lucky man. 

Perhaps Tobias Budge would be granted the same luck. 

Hannibal’s smile widened upon recalling Dear Will’s vehemence as he claimed the Chesapeake Ripper as his. The fire in his lovely blue eyes and the tight grip on Hannibal’s jacket. 

Beautiful. 

Tobias Budge would be a lucky man indeed if he were to contribute to Sweet William’s becoming. 

He left the fantasy of His Will helping him carve open someone from his rolodex as he parked the Bentley and crossed the street to Chordophone String Shop. 

Faint music was playing when Hannibal entered. He reached up to stop the bell from ringing. The haunting strings abruptly cut off. Hannibal closed the door, this time not stopping the bell from chiming. 

Hannibal went to a displayed violin, looking up from the strings as Tobias Budge appeared from a back room. 

”You’re Franklyn’s therapist,” said Tobias. “Dr. Lecter. Nice to meet you again.” 

”Is it Tobias?” said Hannibal. Just a bit of pettiness in return for the stress his darling had been going through. 

A slight twitch of a brow was Hannibal’s reward. “Yes.” 

It took little effort to direct things as Hannibal desired, despite how clever Tobias thought himself. Hannibal commended him, however, for recognizing Hannibal’s baiting. 

Yet, he still agreed to re-string Hannibal’s harpsichord that night. While Dear Will was busy at Quantico. It wouldn’t do for them to meet just yet. 

  


=¤=

Hannibal poured Tobias wine before returning to his seat. Tobias was to his left. His right, after all, was reserved for someone else. 

”A late harvest Vidal from Linden,” Hannibal introduced. 

”Virginia?” said Tobias. “I thought it was French.” 

Hannibal took a sip for himself. “The Virginia wine revolution is upon us. I apologize for being so blunt, Tobias, but I have to ask: did you kill that trombonist?” 

Tobias looked up. “Do you really have to ask?” 

”No,” Hannibal replied. “Just changing the subject.” 

”Franklyn gave you my message,” Tobias assumed. 

”The murder is being investigated by the FBI,” _by my Will._ “They’re going to find you.” 

”Let them.” 

”You want to be caught?” 

”I want them to try,” Tobias clarified. “They may question me because I own a string shop. They’d send two men to conduct an interview, I’d kill them. Then I would find Franklyn, kill him. Then I would disappear.” 

”Don’t kill Franklyn,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ve been looking forward to it,” Tobias said. “Actually, I was going to kill you.” 

”Of course you were,” Hannibal agreed. “I’m lean. Lean animals yield the toughest gut. Tell me, what stopped you from wanting to kill me—or have you stopped?” 

Tobias swirled his wine around his glass. “I stopped after I followed you one night. Out of town. Out of state. To a lonely road. And back home. Impressive how easily you carry around dead bodies. Shows how often you do it.” 

Hannibal stilled. In his peripheral vision, he ascertained the position of his steak knife. 

Tobias wasn’t done. 

”I hope you don’t mind that I stuck around a bit. I was curious what you were up to. Does you little lover know what you get up to at night? Sweet how he greeted you when you came home. Making you a sandwich. Dancing with you…I thought I was in for a show when you two started kissing on the counter. Shame you carried him off as easily as you did that corpse.” 

The knife was part of a set of five steak knives gifted to him by a woman whose chest he’d pulled a three inch nail out of. She forged in her spare time and was very good at it as evidenced by the beauty of the knives. Hannibal was very fond of them. Unfortunately, the woman’s son was horrid, getting coal dust all over Hannibal’s coat and infusing it with the nicotine smell of his cheap cigarettes. He’d tested the knives' sharpness by slowly peeling back layers of the young man's skin and was impressed by how thin he could go, how comfortably the knives fit his hands. He’d invited the mother to dinner to offer his condolences after the tragic disappearance of her son. 

”You’re reckless, Tobias.” Hannibal picked up the knife, cutting smoothly into the steak instead of Tobias' face. He wanted to test the sharpness of the blades again. 

”I wont be telling anyone about you,” said Tobias. “So my recklessness doesn’t concern you.” 

”It concerns me,” Hannibal retorted, “because you won’t be drawing attention to just yourself.” 

Tobias tipped his head. “Shall I assume he doesn’t know, then?” 

Hannibal made a conscious effort to keep his hand loose on the handle of the knife. He wanted Tobias' eyes, he decided. Filthy, unworthy eyes that dared intrude on a moment he had no right to. 

Had those eyes seen the way His Will’s curls fell in a messy halo about his head? The way the sweater Hannibal had gifted him clung to the lines of his body? The way the skin of his pale legs shone in the moonlight as they were wrapped around Hannibal’s waist? The way he flushed as Hannibal licked down the arch of his exposed neck? 

_Filthy, unworthy eyes._

A door opened elsewhere in the house. 

”Hannibal?” came His Will’s voice. “I’m home early, sorry I didn’t call, my phone died.” 

”I’ll be taking my leave, I suppose,” said Tobias. 

Hannibal nodded. He stood to intercept his darling. 

Tobias would need to be dealt with sooner than he’d thought. He couldn’t just disappear, but he couldn’t become a tableau either. Too soon, too dangerous, despite how happy it would make Dear Will to see more of his favorite artist. 

Perhaps Sweet William could do something. 

  


=¤=

Will ate dessert as he watched Hannibal make him dinner. He’d told him he’d be home late, but Beverly had booted him out the door earlier than expected, so now Hannibal had to whip something up for him. 

The bread pudding he was currently consuming had been made for someone else, but they’d been called away in an emergency just before Will had arrived. Hannibal usually told him when he invited guests over, but it had apparently been a sudden thing after Hannibal had run into an old acquaintance and Will hadn’t seen the text for the same reason he hadn’t been able to tell Hannibal he was coming home: his phone had died and his charger had decided to disappear in his time of need. 

Just one more thing to pile on top of everything else. 

”There hasn’t been much progress on the case, I see,” said Hannibal, placing a steaming plate in front of Will. 

Will sighed. “Nope.” 

Hannibal’s responding silence was off enough for Will to look up at him curiously, spoon pausing in its destruction of a perfect square of fried rice. “What?” 

Hannibal sat on the bar stool next to him, wine in hand. “One of my patients has given me permission to share with you something he told me that might be of some use to you.” 

Will put the spoon down. “Go on.” 

”He has a friend who owns a music store in Baltimore specializing in string instruments,” said Hannibal. “He told me this friend some days ago said he wanted to cut open someone’s throat and play it like a violin.” 

Will’s fists clenched. It didn’t sound like much, oddly murderous jokes were fairly common these days, something like that would normally bear looking into, but not be afforded much seriousness. 

Will, though, knew better. He knew the Maestro (Freddie seemed to get a kick out of naming murderers) had been able to tell the Ripper that their work was dedicated to him. This was how he’d done it. By having Hannibal’s patient relay it to him, probably without knowing anything. Which meant the Maestro knew who the Ripper was. Which meant Hannibal had been sitting on this information since yesterday. 

He would’ve been much madder if it weren’t for the fact that Hannibal had told him. 

He’d told _Will._

He’d _chosen_ Will. 

He had his suspicions now about who the earlier guest was, but that didn’t matter because Hannibal—his lover, his Ripper, his monster—had _chosen Will._

”Darling?” 

Will focused on the present. “Sorry. Can you tell me his name and the name of his store?” 

”You’ve met him,” Hannibal said. “Tobias Budge, owner of Chordophone String Shop.” 

  


=¤=

Will sat at his desk, staring at the Chordophone String Shop website on his laptop screen, thinking. 

There was an opportunity here. A really good one, assuming he planned things properly. 

Tobias Budge could be the perfect tool to use in order to get the truth out of Hannibal. 

Should he be concerned by the offhand way he thought of using the murder of a human being as a tool? He poked around his head for his conscience. 

He couldn’t find it. 

Oh, well. 

He could turn Budge into a tableau of his own, but he didn’t much like that idea. 

He could kill Budge, drag his corpse to Hannibal and ask him, teary eyed, for help with the body, which was a better idea, but still not quite what Will wanted. 

He could bring Budge to Hannibal unconscious and tied up but still alive—but how would he explain that without giving away that he knew everything? 

Option 2 was looking like his best bet. It would certainly be the most believable seeing as he’s already killed Hobbs and Stammets. He could say he’d gone to interview Budge alone, Budge had panicked and tried to kill him and so Will was forced to defend himself. 

That might not make much sense, though. A normal person would just confess and Will was sure there’d be plenty of evidence to be found to justify his actions. 

He could still run to Hannibal and pretend to panic since he already had two deaths on his record, but he didn’t think he’d be able to sell it. 

He narrowed his eyes at the screen. There had to be something. 

A muffin hit the side of his face. 

”What the—"

”Don’t frown so much, you’ll get wrinkles! You gotta stay cute for your sugar daddy, y’know.” 

Will watched Beverly saunter into the room, baked goods and coffee in her hands. 

”Are you ever gonna stop calling him that?” asked Will. 

”Depends,” Beverly shrugged. “Is he ever going to stop buying you pricey gifts?” 

Will sighed. “I’m pretty sure he’d happily go bankrupt for me then turn to a life of thievery and credit fraud to keep going.” 

Beverly laughed so hard she almost spilled the coffee all over Will’s desk as she put the cups down. Will caught a muffin that tried to nosedive to the floor. 

”What are you doing here?” said Will. 

”Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to check on a friend?” she demanded. 

Will smiled, picking up a muffin. “I guess not. Aren’t you busy, though?” 

Beverly shrugged. “There’s not much to do on my end for the Maestro case.” Will wrinkled his nose which made Beverly laugh again. “Got issues with the name?” she asked. 

”I have issues with Freddie Lounds,” muttered Will. 

”Got a good ear for catchy names though,” said Beverly. 

”I refuse to pay her a single compliment.” 

”Now that’s just petty.” 

Will decided eating a muffin was a better idea than replying. 

Beverly leaned her hip on Will’s desk. He tensed slightly as her eyes wandered over to his laptop screen. 

”That sounds familiar…” she said. 

”It’s on the list of places we’re checking for the case,” he reminded her. 

”Ah.” She nodded. “Jack’s about to send someone over, I think.” 

Will forced himself not to crush the muffin in his grasp, but the way he ripped a piece of it off might have been a bit more brutal than strictly necessary. “Really?” 

”Yeah,” said Beverly. “Local cops instead of our agents, though. Most of the Maryland guys are cool with us meddling with them, so it’ll probably go well. God, do you remember those assholes in Portland, they were _unbearable_ …”

Will tuned out her jabbering about different police forces' reception of the FBI, as his mind not so much wandered as _raced._

This just had to fucking happen, didn’t it? 

If Budge panicked and ran, Will couldn’t use him. He needed to do something. 

”You think Jack'll let me go with them?” he said, cutting Beverly off in the middle of a heated rant about Philadelphia cops. 

She blinked. “I mean, probably, but why? I thought you hated this kind of interview stuff.” 

Will shrugged. “Just a gut feeling.” 

”Can’t lose anything by asking, right?” she said. 

”You’ve got a point a there." Will stood up. “Do you know where he is?” 

”Last I saw him, he was in his office,” said Beverly. 

”All right. Thanks for the muffin,” Will replied, waving the thing. 

”You’re not even gonna drink your coffee?” Beverly demanded as he made for the door. 

Will glanced at her with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t wanna tell you, but I’ve got a coffee thermos from Hannibal." He ran. 

”Screw your bougie coffee, sugar baby!” she shouted after him. Will grinned. He was in such a better mood in a relationship with Hannibal. 

It’s why Will would do anything to have Hannibal in his entirety. To try and make Hannibal as happy as he made Will. 

He’d fight the world to make it so. 

  


=¤=

Will followed the two police officers to the door of Chordophone String Shop, hands in his pockets since he’d forgotten his gloves at home. 

The officers were a bit stiff with him, but not cold. He thought it was more because of what they’d read about him than because he was FBI, temporary as his badge was. 

There was music playing somewhere in the shop when they entered, though it was quickly cut off as the bell over the door rang. 

A familiar dark skinned man appeared in a doorway, cold, blank eyes landing on Will. 

"Sorry, did we interrupt something?” Will asked. 

”I’m with one of my students,” said Budge. 

”Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” said Will. 

”The lesson was about to end in a few minutes, anyway. I’m sure he won’t mind leaving early.” 

”Thank you.” Will nodded. The policemen were looking around. One of them quietly said that they’d gotten viola lessons when they were younger but could no longer remember any of it. 

A young boy stepped around Budge, a large cello case on his back. 

”I’ll see you next week, Elliott,” Budge told him. 

The boy nodded. “See you, Mr. Budge.” 

Will shot Elliott a smile. “I’ll walk you out.” 

He nodded again, staring at the three strangers curiously. Will was willing to bet he’d be texting his friends about this as soon as possible. 

Will followed him out the door and to the sidewalk. 

”Is Mr. Budge in trouble?” Elliott asked. 

Will shook his head. “We’re just asking him some questions. We’re asking a lot of people, so don’t worry about it too much. Is someone supposed to pick you up?” 

”No,” said Elliott. “My mom’s busy so she gave me some money to take a cab home.” 

”Okay. Let me get a cab for you?” 

It took a few tries, but a taxi stopped in front of them. Will helped him get his cello in the trunk and watched until the taxi had turned the corner. He huffed as he saw the boy already on his phone. 

Will headed back inside the shop. He needed to get this over with quickly while keeping Budge calm and unsuspecting. Will didn’t know enough about him to accurately predict what would happen, but he knew enough to know calm was for the best. 

He hadn’t even the closed the door behind him and he knew he wasn’t getting “the best".

The officers were nowhere to be found and the room was silent in the way a forest was silent when a predator was prowling through. 

”Officers?” he called. He repeated himself after a few seconds of silence, taking out his gun. 

He approached the room Budge had been teaching Elliott in. He nudged the door open with his gun. Call it cold or professional, but he didn’t drop it upon seeing one of the officers on the floor, blood still streaming out of the wound on his neck. 

Will quickly checked to make sure they were alone then reached down for the officer’s radio. He frowned. The wire had been cut. He reached for his phone—and froze when he heard a sound from an open door to the side. 

He stood, raising his gun again. 

The door led to a set of stairs leading to an underground workshop. There was an almost startling amount of human intestines hanging around. 

He found the other officer, dead, face and throat cut up by musical string. Where was—

Strings wound around him, he barely got his hands up in time to stop it from cutting into his throat. The back of his left hand got shredded, but better that than his neck. He could feel Budge behind him, pulling. 

Will tried to stomp on his foot, but Budge moved out of the way, using the shifting of Will’s body to unbalance him and the strings cut deeper into him, blood dripping down his arm and chest. He was starting to choke from the pressure of his own hands on his neck. 

He pointed his gun back. He said a quick goodbye to his eardrums before pulling the trigger. 

The wires dropped. Budge backed off. Will tried to think beyond the ringing in his ears and the blurriness of his vision. His stomach heaved, not helped by the stench of the room. 

A hand grabbed his wrist, nails digging into his skin and tugged. He spun, nearly falling, and tried to find Budge. He was running. Will tried to follow, firing off a few shots, all of them missing, the vibrations of the kickback not helping the roiling of his insides. 

_Goddammit._

His stomach finally regurgitated its contents, stomach acid burning Will’s throat. 

He stumbled. 

His legs gave out. 

His head hit something. 

Everything went black.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a ride. I changed quite a few things from the original version that I wrote, so if it seems a bit weird.......I'm sorry.
> 
> That said, I hope you guys enjoy this continuing madness.

It’s largely familiarity with the scent and his own sense of smell that warns Hannibal.

A hint of iron in the air that hadn’t been there before which helps Hannibal acclimatize to the upcoming situation seconds before the door opens. The smell of varnish and resin tells him who has decided to come knocking. 

Franklyn sees Tobias first. Given by his gasp, Tobias must not look particularly good. 

Hannibal stood as Franklyn did, turning to face his unexpected guest. Blood streamed out of Tobias' mangled ear, dripping onto the collar of his shirt. 

The significance of his appearance in Hannibal’s office doesn’t quite occur to Hannibal until Tobias speaks in response to Franklyn's question. 

”I just killed two men. The police came to question me about the murder.” 

Something inside Hannibal grew cold. Colder, even, than that dread winter long, long ago. 

It’s almost a surprise to Hannibal that there was no frost creeping over the walls, that there was no blizzard battering at the windows. 

_Where was His Will?_

Franklyn was babbling. None of his words registered in Hannibal’s mind; it sounded much like the buzzing of a mosquito by his ear. 

And it was just as easily taken care of. 

Franklyn’s body fell dead to the floor, his neck snapped with all the effortlessness of a clap of his hands. 

”I was looking forward to that,” said Tobias. 

Hannibal tilted his head, unconcerned. 

”But I suppose fair’s fair,” Tobias continued. He pulled something out of a pocket and threw it. Hannibal caught it, due more to his reflexes than actual interest. He looked down. 

The cold spread. 

Roughly oval disks of amber connected with gold, small enough to wrap around a man’s wrist. 

The bracelet he had given Dear Will. 

There was blood on it. 

His Will’s blood. He wasn’t sure how he knew. But he did. There was no question. 

He put it aside on the arm of the chair he reserved for his patients. The chair his darling had so often been slumped down on. 

He looked up as Tobias dropped his jacket and swung musical wire as a weapon. 

This filth would be no more before the hour turned. Hannibal swore it. 

Hannibal kept away, waiting for an opening as Tobias tried to catch him with the wire. He’d need to get rid of it before he could do anything else. 

Without much regard for the possible consequences, he let the wire catch his arm. It tore through cotton and skin with ease but Hannibal managed to tug the other end out of Tobias' grip. He tossed it aside and rushed forward. 

His arm was caught as he threw a punch and a fist driven into his side. Hannibal barely spared a moment to grunt before grabbing one of his glass end tables. 

_(A memory: His Will playing with the ring of condensation left behind on the desk from a cold glass of water Hannibal had given him, eyes fixed on what he was doing. His scruff had done nothing to hide the cut of his jaw and the line of cheekbones. Hannibal itched to draw him.)_

He broke the table over Tobias’ back, broken glass showering both of them. He threw Tobias to the desk where he picked up one of Hannibal’s letter openers. Hannibal tackled him before he could use it and both of them went over the desk, rolling away from each other as they landed. 

Tobias swiped at him with the makeshift knife, Hannibal dodging until he stumbled and the knife stabbed into his leg. An instinctive cry erupted from his lips and he staggered against the desk. 

Tobias immediately attempted to drive the knife into Hannibal’s chest, but Hannibal stopped him with an arm just in time. With his other hand, Hannibal scrabbled for a weapon—there should be a sharp tipped dip pen nearby—

_There._

He sank the sharp metal tip of the pen into Tobias' bicep and it was Tobias' turn to shout and stumble back. 

Tobias returned quickly, abandoning the letter opener on the floor. They exchanged a flurry of kicks and blows until Hannibal found himself slammed against the ladder. 

_(A quick flicker of several memories at once, all largely the same: Sweet William going up or down the same ladder usually distracted by his own thoughts, sometimes looking down at Hannibal as if making sure he was there to catch him should he fall. Hannibal made sure to always be there.)_

Hannibal spun out of the way as Tobias threw a punch, arm going between the rungs with his momentum. Hannibal grabbed his forearm and yanked it the wrong way, hearing a satisfying crack and pained howl. 

He might have grinned. Just for a moment. 

Tobias attempted another swing with his uninjured arm. Hannibal ducked underneath and struck Tobias in the throat. Tobias dropped to his knees, gasping for breath through his crushed airway. 

Hannibal himself was panting as he took out his pocket square, using it to hide his fingerprints as he picked up the heavy stag statue on the pedestal behind Tobias. 

_(Another memory: Dear Will’s careful fingers tracing over the antlers as he thought, Hannibal waiting patiently for him to speak and, perhaps, giving in to the temptation to look at his behind—lovely despite his rather horrid trousers. Hannibal had to get him better ones.)_

Hannibal slammed the statue as hard as he could against the back of Tobias' head. He got another satisfying crack and the even more satisfying sight of a caved in skull. He let the statue drop to the floor and tipped the pedestal over as well. 

He made sure Tobias was no longer breathing, his heart no longer beating. He glanced at his watch. Dead before the hour was up. As promised. 

He put his pocket square back as he stepped over what was once Tobias Budge and carefully (oh, so carefully) picked up the amber bracelet. He dropped to the floor, ignoring the chair and scattered glass. He cupped the bracelet in his hands, then took out his pocket square again. 

He should do something about his bleeding leg. The stab had missed his femoral artery, but there was still quite a bit of blood streaming out and plenty of bloody streaks tracked across the floors because of it. It was a risk to let it keep bleeding. 

He cleaned the bracelet. He went over every inch of it twice, thrice until it shone. 

It stabbed into his eyes like sunlight off fresh snow. He could almost taste that watery, terribly seasoned stew. 

How long would it be until he spoke this time? 

  


=¤=

Will didn’t know how much time had passed until he awoke. Budge wasn’t around. 

_Fuck._

Will probably couldn’t use him anymore but that didn’t mean he’d let Budge run around freely. 

He dug his phone out of his pocket, swearing when he saw the cracked screen and the unresponding buttons. He tossed it aside and pushed himself to his feet, only falling again once due to nausea. He released the breath he'd been holding after his stomach calmed and he no longer felt seconds away from another round of retching.

He checked the nearby officer’s corpse. His radio had been cut and he didn’t have a phone on him. He didn’t have the keys to the cruiser either. He went upstairs to the other corpse—no phone, no keys. Budge must have taken them with him. 

Blood was still dripping from his left hand, his ears were still ringing—one worse than the other. He checked both for blood, found none and decided all of it could be ignored. 

Will ran out of the store, grabbing the first person he saw. “Can I borrow your phone please?” 

The man turned around, startled. He looked familiar, but Will's brain still wasn’t fully functional and couldn’t put a name to his face. 

”Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?” the man asked, voice muffled but distinguishable. 

Will shook his head, eyes crossing as his brain sloshed around his skull. “No, I need to call someone, please.” 

”All right, sure.” 

Will took the offered phone and concentrated on correctly dialing Jack’s number. It rang a few times before being answered. Will didn’t let him finish demanding who it was before speaking. 

”Jack, it’s Will,” he said. “It’s Budge. He ran, we need to start searching for him, the officers are down at—"

 _”Will,”_ Jack interrupted, firm but gentle in a way that made Will tense. 

”What?” 

_”We know about Budge, he went to Dr. Lecter’s office—“_

Oh, God. 

Of course. 

Of course, Budge would gun for Hannibal since Hannibal had seemingly betrayed him (as if he had ever been on Budge's side) and now…

”Oh, God.” 

_”Will? Will, wait, listen to me—“_

Will shoved the phone back at the man, not knowing if he’d managed to catch it. He jumped out onto the street, stopping a cab by throwing himself in front of it. The driver began to yell at him, but stopped upon properly looking at him. 

Will got into the front seat and rattled off the address of Hannibal’s office. The driver suggested the hospital, but Will just glared and repeated the address. 

The office was twenty minutes away, but they got there in fifteen, most of it passing in a haze of Will praying for the first time in decades. 

Will tossed his wallet at the driver as he ran out the cab. Some agents outside tried to stop him, but someone (Beverly, he thought) yelled to let him through. In the waiting room, Jack grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him. 

”Calm down, Will,” Jack ordered. 

”Fuck you,” said Will. 

Jack’s brows raised. “I’m gonna forgive you for that just this once. Listen to me: he’s fine, Will. Are you hearing me? _He’s fine._ ”

Will took a breath for what felt like the first time in hours. “He is?” 

”Yes, he is,” said Jack. “Honestly, I’d say he’s doing better than you. You can see him once you’ve calmed down a little.” 

”I’m calm,” Will retorted. 

”You wanna try that again?” 

Will breathed. For a few seconds he just closed his eyes and breathed. 

Hannibal was fine. He was alive and _fine_ and Will could hug and kiss him once his heart stopped trying to destroy his ribcage. 

”Okay,” Will sighed. “Okay, I’m calm.” 

”Good.” Jack let go of his shoulders. "I’m gonna have to ask you two what happened: that all right?” 

Will nodded. 

He was allowed into the office proper. The first thing he saw was the corpse of Franklyn, neck at an unnatural angle. The second was the corpse of Tobias Budge, the heavy metal stag on the floor by his head. 

His heart jumped into his throat when his eyes landed on Hannibal, sitting messy haired and a bit bloodied behind his desk, staring back at Will with a look akin to awe. 

  


For a moment, Hannibal pondered whether or not he had finally gone as mad as eveyone accused the Chseapeake Ripper of being.

Then, he ceased all pondering, for who cared for madness if it meant seeing his heart returned to his hands.

His Will looked significantly worse than when he had last seen him, yet he still appeared akin to an angel in Hannibal's eyes.

Dear Will crossed the room to him, casting a brief glance at the flustered paramedic Hannibal had glared coldly at when she had first approached. He hadn't wanted to be treated. There was relief in those eyes Hannibal adored and a smile playing on those perfect lips when His Will stopped before him. Hannibal took one of his hands between both of his own, not even registering the sting from his wounded arm and torn open knuckles. He needed the reassurance that this was real, that he wasn't quite mad yet, that that disgusting pig had lied when he implied His Will was dead.

”I thought you had died,” Hannibal confessed, almost surprised by the sound of his own voice. He showed his other hand and the bracelet he held. Will’s breath caught. 

”Surprise: I’m not.” He turned the hand Hannibal held, presenting his pale wrist. 

Hannibal managed a chuckle. He put the bracelet back where it should be, where it belonged and kissed it. Head bowed over Dear Will's hand and eyes closed, the doors in his memory palace that he had been closing flew open again. Memories of His will now no longer locked away in the same tower he had thrown his sister into. Except for one memory. There was no need to hold on to the earlier events of today. 

He glanced at Will’s other hand and frowned. “You need medical attention,” he said. 

Will raised a brow. “I’ll get it if you do.” 

”As you wish, darling.” 

He called the paramedic back over and let her work on his thigh while he himself cleaned and bandaged His Will’s hand. He couldn't presently stand the idea of anyone else touching him. He noticed His Will’s spaceyness and was told of having to fire right by his ear and the lingering ringing. Hannibal would bring him to a specialist later to better check that over. There was a clamoring need in him to look after his darling. It startled him, but he had no intention of ignoring it. His Dear Sweet William deserved everything the world had to offer.

And Hannibal was all too happy to be the one to give that to him.

  


Will gave in to the urge to drop a kiss on top of Hannibal’s head. Hannibal looked surprised but responded by kissing Will’s fingers. 

He could see the paramedic hiding a smile. 

As the paramedic was peering at Will’s ears and saying he should be fine though the ringing might stay for a couple days, Beverly approached, waving Will’s wallet in the air. “Lost something?” 

”Sorry,” he said, taking it back and following her just a few steps away from the table as the paramedic began to work on Hannibal's arm. Hannibal had briefly gripped his hand tighter, but let go nonetheless. Will wanted to return to him quickly.

”Driver only took what you owed him, but I took the liberty of giving him a big tip,” said Beverly. “Hope you don’t mind.” 

”I don’t mind, he definitely deserved it,” Will replied. “I probably got blood all over his seats.” 

”Oh, you definitely did, I saw it,” she teased. “I gave him a coupon for a cleaning service.” 

”Thanks, Bev.” 

She waved the thanks away. “I only accept thanks in the form of donuts, you know this.” 

Will smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

Before Will could return to Hannibal, Beverly stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Keep an eye on your man over there, all right? He texted Jack instead of calling 911 and he didn’t say anything until you got here. Shock, I think.” 

_I didn’t speak for some time._

Beverly was called away by someone. The paramedic left after watching Hannibal clean and wrap his bruised and bloodied knuckles as well as the cut from Tobias' wire which, by some miracle, didn't require stitches. Will boosted himself up to sit on the desk, tapping his fingers against the bracelet. Hannibal made no comment. 

”Today’s been a day, huh?” said Will. 

”It certainly has been,” Hannibal agreed, taking Will’s hand again. “I have only once before felt the way I did when he said he’d killed two men sent to question him and threw me your bracelet. I thought I’d sent you to your death.” 

”Not quite,” Will said. “I heard he was on the list of people to be questioned today and asked if I could tag along.” 

”Cruel of me, perhaps, but I’m glad you aren’t on the list of today’s dead.” 

Will smiled. “Cruel of _me_ , perhaps, but I’m glad you aren’t either.” 

They were quiet for a moment, just reveling in being alive and _together_. Will wondered if Hannibal’s suit could be saved. He doubted it. Shame. 

Someone cleared their throat. 

They both turned to find Jack on the other side of the desk, looking a bit awkward, but determined. 

”Sorry,” he said. “but I’m gonna need some statements before I can let you two go home.” 

”Of course,” said Hannibal, courteous as ever. “Whatever you need, Jack.” 

Will went first: talking about walking the kid out, returning to find two corpses and being attacked. Hannibal repeatedly tightened and loosened his grip as if working himself up and forcing himself to calm down over and over again. Will wrapped it up by saying he’d borrowed someone’s phone to call Jack since he’d fallen on and broken his. It was still in the basement of Budge’s shop. 

Hannibal took over saying Budge had come to kill his friend Franklyn then decided to kill Hannibal, too, to eliminate witnesses. Hannibal defended himself, fighting Tobias until he’d kicked the stand over and the metal stag had hit Budge’s head, accidentally killing him. He’d then contacted Jack. 

Will doubted plenty of that story, particularly the “accidental death" part, but he’d never say it within Jack’s hearing range. 

Hannibal would get away with this. Because he had a good story and was friends with Jack and was an upstanding member of society. 

People would say _poor Dr. Lecter, it’s not his fault that horrible man is dead, I hope he’s doing all right, he’s such a nice man._

Absolutely brilliant. Will adored him. 

Jack said cleaning the office would take some time, though Hannibal claimed it was fine since he’d be shutting down his practice for a bit. 

Finally, Jack let them leave, telling them to take care. Hannibal took Will out to the Bentley and drove straight for the hospital for a last quick check. Will let him do as he pleased, content as long as Hannibal’s hand was in his. 

Everything would be fine as long as Hannibal was with him. 

  


=¤=

It probably wouldn’t come as a shock that Will still slept a bit oddly post-encephalitis. There was still the occasional nightmare, but they weren’t as bad. The oddness came more from the fact that some nights Will slept so deeply he wouldn’t wake up even after two birds had flown into the window within seconds of each other (true story) and other nights he’d be wide awake because of a soft creak as the house settled. 

It was often related to stress. The more stress he’d been put through during the day, the less deeply he slept. 

So, of course, the night after he and Hannibal had nearly died, Will was very easy to wake. 

Will’s eyes fluttered open, landing on Hannibal who was sitting up, back to Will, feet on the floor. Will stretched an arm to poke him in the elbow. “Hey.”

Hannibal turned, sandwiching Will’s hand between both of his. His lips moved, but nothing made it past the faint ringing in Will’s ears.

Will squinted at him. “You’re gonna have to speak up, I still can’t hear properly.” 

”Did I wake you?” Hannibal repeated, this time in a normal tone instead of the whisper he’d previously used. Will caught it. 

”Kinda, but not really. Why are you up?” 

Hannibal took a slow breath. “It has been a very long time since I last had a nightmare.” 

Will hummed. “You’re okay, Hannibal.” 

”That’s not what he dream was about, mano širdis,” Hannibal replied, moving two fingers over Will’s wrist to rest on his pulse. 

It took an embarrassing second to figure out what he meant. 

Once Will _did_ figure it out, he quickly sat up and scooched closer, hugging Hannibal from behind, cheek on a sleep warm shoulder. 

”I’m okay, too,” he said. “I’m right here. With you.” 

Hannibal released a shaky sigh and leaned back against Will. Will kept holding him, matching up their breathing. 

After a couple minutes, Hannibal spoke. “I had thought to draw you." 

”Do you still want to?” Will asked. 

”I do,” answered Hannibal. 

Will reached for the tablet on the nightstand to check the time since Hannibal’s dislike of clocks was as evident in his home as his office. It was 2:47 a.m. Perfect. 

”I’ll pose however you want as long as we have a 3 a.m. fridge raid first,” said Will. “You promised to make me that thing your mom made remember?” 

”Fried curd cakes, yes,” Hannibal said. “Though, I don’t recall actually making a promise.” 

”It was implied.” 

Hannibal kissed the side of Will’s head. “As you wish.” 

They headed for the kitchen, hand in hand in the dark. Will winced a little when the kitchen lights came on. He claimed one of the bar stools while Hannibal gathered ingredients. He said nothing about the way Hannibal spent a few seconds scanning the garden through the glass doors. 

”I’m quite certain one isn’t supposed to go into a fridge raid already with an idea of what they’re making,” Hannibal said. 

”There are no rules when it comes to fridge raids, Hannibal,” Will replied. 

”I’ll take your word for it, darling.” 

Will crossed his arms on the island, leaning his chin on top. He smiled a little as he watched Hannibal mix things together in a bowl. 

Will had been surprised to find out Hannibal had had a nightmare, but it made sense. Will was likely the first person Hannibal had cared about in a long time and he’d thought he’d lost him as helplessly as he’d lost his sister. 

Hannibal himself still seemed a bit surprised though if it was because of the nightmare itself or the proof of his own feelings for Will, Will wasn’t sure. 

It was endearing, in a sad kind of way. 

They were both still reeling from their day. Hannibal’s knuckles were still bandaged and he probably shouldn’t be standing so long on his bad leg. Will’s shredded hand faintly itched and despite the ever present ringing, he could already tell that the hearing in the ear closest to the gun was worse than on the other side. 

They could both use a break. What with Budge and the encephalitis and even Ingram on top of the stress of the cases Jack dragged him into that he shared with Hannibal—they definitely needed a break. It'd be good for them. 

The oil hissed as the first curd cake dropped in. 

”Where would you take me?” Will asked. 

Hannibal glanced up at him, then focused back on shaping the second cake. “Pardon?” 

”A vacation,” Will clarified. “Where would you take me?” 

Another glance. “That would depend on what you want to do.” 

"I want you to show me things,” answered Will. “Stuff you enjoy.” 

Two more curd cakes had been dropped in. “Florence, then, or Paris. Perhaps Venice if you want to go soon, it’s rather lovely in the winter with less tourists around.” 

”All three,” Will decided. “I’ve got a lot of vacation days saved up, I could take all of December off.” 

Hannibal was smiling now. The smile that reached his eyes, the one only Will was privy to because it was only ever directed at him, the one that made him think of purring beasts, the one Will adored. 

”Very well, then,” said Hannibal. “I will need some time to make sure my patients will be taken care of and to prepare for our trip. Shall we leave Sunday after next? December 5th?”

Will shrugged. “Sounds good. I’m gonna need a bigger suitcase, though. Do you have one I could borrow? I don’t wanna have to buy a new one.” 

”I believe I have one, I’ll check in the morning,” Hannibal said. 

”Okay.” Will chewed on a nail, wondering what else he could do to cheer Hannibal up (or the Hannibal Lecter version of cheered up). “Do you wanna pack for me?” 

The way Hannibal perked up at the question had Will hiding a smile behind his arms. 

”You would let me?” 

”Yeah,” Will said. “You’d know better about what to wear, I’m assuming. There’s some stuff I definitely wanna bring, but clothes wise I can leave it to you.” 

”I’d be very happy to do so,” Hannibal said. 

”I figured,” Will teased. 

Hannibal looked up from the eight curd cakes he was flipping around with a spider. “Is this an offer made for my enjoyment?” 

”Partly,” Will confessed. “But packing kind of stresses me out: I always second guess if I’ve packed too much or packed too little, if I should pack this or leave that. So, thank you for taking that out of my hands.” 

”Its always a pleasure to be of service to you, darling,” said Hannibal. “Would you like to wash the strawberries?” 

”Sure.” Will stood, taking the little box of bright red strawberries to the sink. “Where are we going first?” 

”Paris,” Hannibal answered, “then down to Florence and end our trip in Venice. We could take a train to Florence, but, if luck allows, we could take a cruise. Which would you prefer?” 

”A cruise, huh,” Will mused. “Never been on one of those.” 

”Shall we make a first for you?” 

”Sure,” said Will, shaking off the strawberries. “Cruise it is, if luck allows.” 

”As you wish, mon chéri.” 

Will brought the berries back to Hannibal and followed his directions to a bottle of wine in the cellar that Hannibal said would pair best with the snack. It was actually Will’s first time down there and he looked around curiously, wondering how to get to where Hannibal did his Ripper things. He’d have to look sometime. When Hannibal was out. 

Will returned to find Hannibal carefully arranging slices of strawberry into flowers atop the curd cakes. He looked almost at peace doing such meticulous work and Will wanted to take a picture, but his phone was broken. 

He sighed. He’d talk to Hannibal about it tomorrow. 

For now, he passed Hannibal the bottle and got ready to sample a piece of his lover’s childhood.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, sorry if it seems like I'm talking a lot about their injuries, it's just that those things don't just magically go away (at least in this universe) so I'm trying to keep that realistic.
> 
> Second, if it wasn't already obvious I don't actually have any idea what the fuck Will's job entails.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy the new chapter!!

Will inspected the key lime in his hand. It wasn’t the season for them, so it was enough of a miracle that they were available, he wasn’t about to push his luck by asking for the really good ones. Maybe he should just get a bottle of their juice? He didn’t wanna do that, though. Partly because he hadn’t seen any bottles of key lime juice in this supermarket and didn’t wanna go to another one, mostly because he still had very vivid memories of the rant from one of the women who’d taught him regarding how much better it was to juice actual citrus instead of using what she called “preservative filled capitalist bullshit".

Aunt Maggie said it was fine to use either, really, but she’d said it in a whisper, behind the house, while Aunt Marge was out being a midwife . She’d looked as nervous as a sinner in Church (as his Dad would say), as well, so nine-year-old Will hadn’t believed her. 

Even knowing now that it really was fine, he still preferred juicing his own citrus. He _felt_ like a sinner in Church whenever he bought cartons of orange juice instead of actual oranges, which didn’t happen often. He swore he could feel Aunt Marge glaring at him from beyond while Aunt Maggie chided her to leave Will alone in her lilting Irish accent. 

Actual key limes it was. 

Honestly, the things he did for Hannibal. 

Not that Hannibal had told him to do this. Will just wanted to do it for the sake of his ongoing quest to convince Hannibal he could be entrusted with his secrets. 

Will selected the best key lines he could find, getting more than he thought he needed just in case. Everything else he needed was already at home, but he was determined to sneak some chips into the house. He figured he could hide them in the shed. There were some locked cupboards for things they needed to keep the dogs away from and Hannibal _probably_ wouldn’t find them there. 

”Will.” 

Will felt like a cold knife had run up his spine. He cursed the fact the ringing in his ears had finally faded just that morning, making the soft call audible. He turned around, bag of Doritos still in hand, to find Matthew Brown with his own basket of groceries and a pleased smile. 

”Mr. Brown,” he said. 

”Please, call me Matthew,” said Brown, stepping closer to let someone pass. 

Will just gave him a tight lipped smile. Why had he decided to make this a surprise and not bring Hannibal with him? 

”I wanted to ask you if everything’s all right now,” Brown continued when Will said nothing. 

”You heard about what happened?” Not that it wasn’t common knowledge by this point already almost two days after the entire debacle with Budge. 

Brown tilted his head, reminding Will of a bird calculating how best to swoop down on unsuspecting prey. “You don’t remember? You borrowed my phone that day—outside the Maestro’s store.” 

Will thought back to his still hazy memory in the moments after regaining consciousness in that basement. He’d asked for a phone call from a man who had looked vaguely familiar. Oh. 

”Oh,” he said. “Sorry, everything from that day is a little…”

”I understand,” Brown assured. “You looked pretty injured, are you feeling better?” 

Will resisted the urge to glance at his hand, something in him urging him not to look away from Brown. It had only recently been freed from his bandages and was slowly healing. Will already knew that he would barely be able to see the scars after a while. “I am,” he said. “I live with a surgeon after all.” 

”You live together?” Brown asked with an intensity that made Will shuffle back a step and mentally beg for a gun. “I didn’t know that.” 

_Good job, Graham, let a creep know where you live._ “It happened after the party.” 

Brown nodded slowly. “Well, both of you must feel better since the Maestro’s dead. Just another one of the killers you’ve dealt with.” 

Abruptly walking away would be rude, but Hannibal wasn’t around to chide him for it, so it should be fine, right? “A memorable one.” 

”He definitely made an interesting scene in the symphony,” said Brown. 

”No one can beat the Ripper once it comes to scenes, though,” said Will, unable to help himself. He dropped the Doritos into his basket, risking removing his eyes from Brown to hide a small smile as he thought of his Ripper's gifts. 

Brown nodded again as if agreeing, though his eyes were far away. “I won’t keep you any longer. Dr. Lecter must be waiting for you at home.” 

Not really. Will had planned his surprise because Hannibal said he’d be out talking to his therapist. It had been both surprising and not to find out he had one. He wondered what they were like. 

”Please, pass along my well wishes,” Brown concluded. 

”Sure. Have a good day.” Will internally patted himself on the back. Hannibal would be proud of him for being so polite. 

”You, too, Will.” 

Will walked away despite not wanting to expose his back to Brown. He bumped into someone, focused as he was on keeping track of Brown. 

Will mumbled an apology (might as well keep the politeness train going), eyes on the ground. His brief glance only caught fair hair and a male body. The man smelled like the cheap beer he had a pack of in hand. 

The man snarled at him, his anger battering at Will’s brain, making his own lip twitch upwards in an aborted snarl. 

Will shook it off with a wince and got away quickly. He rubbed at his temple. He got back into his own head and speed walked to where the cookies were. He hadn’t been planning on getting Oreos, but he thought he’d earned it. 

Honestly, the things he did for the man he loved. 

  


=¤=

”Heard your vacation was approved.” 

Will looked up from the lunch Hannibal had packed for him to see Beverly sitting across from him with her own lunch tray. 

”Yeah, thankfully,” said Will. 

”They had to with everything you’ve done and everything you’ve been through,” said Beverly. “So, where’s your sugar daddy taking you?” 

Will rolled his eyes at the familiar term, but answered. “Paris first, then down to Italy.” 

”How much vacation time did you apply for?” Beverly asked. 

”A month,” said Will. 

”Damn,” she whispered. “What is this a honeymoon? You two got something you wanna announce?” 

”No, that’s not what’s happening,” Will corrected. “I just thought we could both use a break and I had a lot of vacation time.” 

”So, you decided to blow it all on one trip?” 

Will shrugged. “Kinda. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about my dogs.” 

”Put them in one of those fancy schmancy pet hotels,” Beverly suggested. 

”That’s what Hannibal’s trying to convince me,” said Will. “He’s found one in D.C. that’s got cameras so I can check on them online and stuff.” 

”See, that sounds good, right?” 

”I’m not making my dogs go through _blueberry facials_ , Beverly,” Will said, exasperated. 

”That sounds great, I want a blueberry facial,” said Beverly. 

”Well, I’m not gonna stop you from getting one.” Will speared a chunk of roasted squash. “I’ll probably drop them off at my farmhouse for my sitter to look after since she doesn’t wanna go all the way out to Baltimore.” 

”You still have your old place?” 

Will nodded. “I don’t know what I wanna do with it yet. I like the fishing spot on the property.” 

"Keep it then,” said Beverly. “It can be your countryside retreat.” 

”Not sure about that terminology.” Will’s phone sounded in his pocket. He fished it out and saw it was just a reminder to take his meds. He got his pill box and a bottle of water out of his bag. 

”That a new phone?” Beverly asked. 

Will finished swallowing his pills before answering. “Yeah. I broke mine dealing with Budge, remember?” 

It was solid black and one of the latest models. He and Hannibal had bought it just the day before which had been an experience. Hannibal had kept a hand on him the entire time. They’d had sex in the garage then cuddled on the couch while Hannibal read and Will customized and got used to his new phone. 

His lockscreen was a picture of his dogs, his homescreen was of Hannibal in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, holding a glass of wine up to the light. Hannibal had looked unbearably smug when he saw it. Will had nearly switched it out for another photo of his dogs. 

He really appreciated the camera quality. 

”You are spoiled,” Beverly proclaimed. 

”You’re not wrong,” Will replied. 

”It’s a good look on you, Graham.” 

Will gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Katz.” 

She pointed her spoon at him. “I expect you to look even more spoiled when you get back from your trip.” 

Will hummed. “Right now, I’m just hoping nothing happens that has Jack forcing me to stay.” 

Beverly opened her mouth, closed it, thought for a moment and spoke: “I can’t say he wouldn’t do that.” 

He nodded. “Exactly.” 

”Well.” She raised her bottle of juice as if toasting him. “Here’s to hoping you haven’t just jinxed yourself.” 

Will grimaced and knocked his drink against hers. “Here’s to hoping.” 

  


=¤=

It was Friday night and instead of resting for their 4 a.m. flight to Paris-Charles De Gaulle airport, they were at someone’s birthday party. It was someone who’d mentored Hannibal during his medical doctor days, so he couldn’t back out. He’d of course told Will he didn’t have to come along, but here Will was. And he wasn’t really all that sure _why_.

He took a sip of his wine, the rings of his new cufflinks and rings set clinking gently against the glass. Silver and amber this time to go with the grey pinstripe suit. Since this was a more casual affair, he was sans tie and the first couple buttons of his white shirt were undone to show the thin chains looping around his neck sprinkled with little circles of amber. 

He had a pocket square of deep, almost black purple, matching Hannibal’s suit, because of course. 

Hannibal squeezed Will’s hip, still talking to a woman about mushroom gathering. Will had no idea what was going on there. He tucked himself a little closer to Hannibal’s side. 

The birthday dinner had ended just a while ago and Hannibal had actually approved of the food. Except for the dessert which he thought was too sweet. Will disagreed. 

They’d spoken briefly to the seventy-year-old celebrant, who Will had quickly grown to like. Hannibal had looked amused as they chattered about dogs. 

There were several doctors around, most of which knew of Will’s reputation and had attempted to pick at his brain, but Hannibal had shut them down quickly if Will couldn’t make them go away. 

He supposed he should’ve expected that. 

The mushroom woman left. Probably to discuss porcinis and chanterelles with someone else. Hannibal’s lips brushed against his ear. 

”Would you like to leave?” he asked. 

Will shook his head. “We can stay longer if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Hannibal scrutinized him for a moment. “You’re enjoying the strawberries.” 

”No idea what you’re talking about,” said Will even as he eyed one of the servers bearing trays of chocolate covered strawberries wandering close. He’d taken a couple every time one of them neared him. 

Hannibal chuckled. “Tell me when you’ve had enough. Dr. Luna won’t be upset at our leaving early since we have a flight in a few hours. She’ll likely scold me for coming.” 

”Did she scold you a lot when you were younger?” Will asked. 

”Only because of the ‘bonding experiences' I missed by not going to bars with my peers,” Hannibal answered. Will had to laugh at the mental image of Hannibal Lecter dealing with sticky bar counters and sweaty, screaming patrons. He’d probably murder everyone. 

The thought shouldn’t have been as fond as it was. 

Will was prevented from asking him if he’d ever even _been_ to a bar before by his phone vibrating in his pocket. 

He frowned and got it out; he knew it couldn’t be his medicine reminder. The frown only deepened once he saw Jack’s name on the screen. 

”I think I should take this,” he said. 

Hannibal nodded and Will went over to one of the windows, his back to the room as he answered the call just before it went to voicemail. 

”What is it?” Will said. 

_”You still in the States?”_ Jack demanded. 

”Yeah.” 

_”Good. I need you in D.C. How soon can you get here?”_

Will chewed on his lip. “I’m in D.C. right now.” 

Jack gave him the address of an apartment block. _”You can do this one thing before you take your imagination from us for a month, right?”_

Will felt a pang of annoyance at the guilt tripping, made worse the fact that it was working at that the annoyance couldn’t stop it. 

Will sighed. “Okay. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

Jack hung up without another word. Will sighed again. 

He went back to Hannibal who was in a conversation with someone who gave off government official vibes. Hannibal excused himself the moment he saw Will approaching. 

”I have to go,” Will said. “I’m sorry about this, really.” 

”I would never stop you from doing your job, darling,” Hannibal replied. “Would you like me to go with you?” 

Will shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll leave as soon as I can call a cab, I’ll meet you back home. Steal a strawberry for me.” 

”I would prefer if you took the Bentley,” said Hannibal. 

Will stopped Hannibal from getting his keys out of his pocket. “I would prefer taking a cab. I’ll be fine. I’ll figure out how to convince someone to take me over to Baltimore later.” 

”I can pick you up,” said Hannibal. “By the time you’re finished , it should be all right for me to leave.” 

”Tempting,” Will admitted. 

Hannibal smiled. “I promise to bring you strawberries.” 

Will laughed. “I’ve been successfully seduced. I’ll text you when I can go, then. Is it all right for me to just go?” 

”Dr. Luna will understand,” Hannibal assured. “The faster you go, the faster you can be done. I must ask, however, if you brought your wallet with you?” 

Will frowned. Not again. “Oops.” 

”You should always bring a wallet with you, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”Pretty sure you know exactly why it slipped my mind.” _Why would I need my wallet when I’ve got you?_

Hannibal didn’t even _try_ hiding how pleased he was. “You will have to take my card. I don’t have any cash at the moment.” 

”Okay.” 

Hannibal didn’t make a show of it, but he wasn’t by any means _subtle_ either as he pulled his wallet out and gave Will a sleek, black card. Will could feel eyes on him as he tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. His heart was racing. He’d almost forgotten why he was leaving. 

Will swallowed. “I’ll see you later. Tell Dr. Luna I’m sorry I had to leave like this.” 

”I will.” Hannibal kissed him, close mouthed, but too long to be considered chaste. There were more eyes on them, some following as he left, speed walking while poking at his phone to get a cab. 

He wanted to get his over with and get out of the country. 

  


=¤=

Will absently nodded at the agent posted at the elevator as he exited. The apartment building was on the cheap side and rundown, mainly populated by the not so good sort. 

The apartment Will was heading to had been rented out by a recently divorced alcoholic by the name of Timothy Carlton according to what he’d been told. 

3E. Will gave another distracted nod to the agent at the door as he passed her. 

The corpse was the first thing he saw. Situated in a wooden chair in the middle of the single room apartment. There was a tiny kitchen and living area with an unmade bed in one corner by a door leading presumably to a bathroom. 

Carlton’s brown eyes were open, staring sightlessly at Will. He looked away. Looked to the blood surrounding the partially dressed body. The blood was from his recklessly slashed open torso, shirt hanging in tatters off his frame. 

His organs had been pulled out of his body and ripped apart, the pieces flung around the room. Will could only imagine how much work it would be to catalog all that. 

Will reached for one of the gloves and booties on a little fold out table just by the door in one of the few clean spots in the room. He paused upon catching sight of his rings and their chains. He sighed. He was gonna have to take them off. 

”Boo! Let me take a picture first!” 

Will took his attention off the rings he was sliding from his fingers. He rolled his eyes at Beverly. 

”Where were you at, looking so fancy?” Price asked from next to the body. 

”A fancy birthday party,” Will answered. “I didn’t know dessert caviar was a thing until about an hour ago.” 

”Is it good?” Zeller said, taking a picture of what Will was pretty sure was an entire lung on top of the TV. 

"Yeah, I’d say so.” Will winced as he shoved everything into a pocket. The chains would be hopelessly tangled by the time he pulled them out again, he just knew it. 

”Nice necklace,” Beverly commented. 

”Thanks.” 

”How much was it?” 

Will shot her a look while slipping the booties on. “I didn’t ask. I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea.” 

Beverly _cackled_.

”If we could focus, please?” 

Everyone shut up. Will scowled. At his uncooperative gloves, of course. Not at Jack standing in the doorway. 

”Good to see you here, Will,” said Jack. 

”Sure.” He his a wince as the glove snapped against his wrist. He walked around, careful to avoid both evidence and evidence markers. There was a bullet hole in the wall splattered with blood, about the height of a man's chest. He glanced back at the body. Through the mess of skin and blood and bone, he could see an exit wound in Carlton’s back. 

The bullet had gone right through Carlton’s heart. How close had the shooter been standing for it to rip right through? 

”No one heard anything?” Will asked. “The walls seem pretty thin.” 

”They did,” said Beverly. “Apparently, when he gets drunk, he throws stuff around, so everyone just assumed he was wasted again.” 

”Nothing got called in until the kid downstairs saw blood leaking through his ceiling,” Zeller added. 

”He screamed and passed out,” Price cheerily continued. “The couple next door checked on him, then they checked on this guy, _then_ they called 911.” 

Will hummed. 

”CCTV?” asked Jack. 

Price shook his head. “Building cameras have been down for the past three days.” 

”I’ve already got someone pulling street footage,” Beverly said. 

”Good.” Jack glanced at Will, now circling the body. “Clear the room.” 

As everyone bustled out, Will’s eyes remained on the corpse. They lingered on Carlton’s fair hair. He blinked. He’d seen that hair before. The man he’d bumped into when he was buying the key limes. 

He shook the thought away. It wasn’t important. 

The door shut behind him. He wanted to close Carlton’s eyes. He closed his own instead. 

The pendulum swung. 

  


_I am not someone Mr. Carlton knows, but I give him a lie his alcohol addled brain believes and I am allowed inside his apartment with no trouble._

_He heads to the couch. I point my gun. I call his name. He turns. I allow his eyes to widen in comprehension before firing. Right in the heart. A perfect shot._

_I don’t worry about the noise. No one will come for him._

_I position the chair. I cannot leave him as he is. He needs to be memorable._

_This is my debut. I need to make a splash. I need to be **memorable**._

_I dump him into the chair. I arrange his head carefully, but don’t care much for the positioning of the rest of him. I ruffle his hair, pleased that he’s dead. He deserved it._

_I take his knife from the kitchen. It’s dull and not of good quality, but it will do for my purposes. I attack his torso, going at it until I can yank out his insides._

_This is when the anger comes._

_I hack viciously at the organs, scattering them about the room about with glee._

_What’s so special about these slimy lumps?_

_What’s so special about the one who takes them for trophies?_

_What’s so special about the Chesapeake **fucking** Ripper? _

_I will prove myself better than him._

_I will prove myself more than he could ever be._

_I will have what’s mine._

_This is my design._

  


Will opened his eyes. He found his Ravenstag behind Carlton. He smiled. 

”Would you look at that,” he said. “First we meet a fan of yours and now we have someone’s who’s _not_. Perks of fame, huh?” 

The Ravenstag approached, nudging his warm, wet muzzle against the side of Will’s head. His smile widened. 

”How should I handle this? Should I tell Jack everything about this new killer? I think it’ll be fine. It should be safe. They can deal with this little… _thing_ while were on vacation. I’ve got plans, you know.” 

The Ravenstag snorted, stomping a hoof. 

Will nodded. “Tell Jack everything, it is.” 

The Ravenstag bowed his head, crown oh, so gently brushing against Will’s face. 

Will opened his eyes. Carlton was still staring at him. Will turned his head. “Jack?” 

Jack entered with everyone going back to their jobs. He stood next to Will, glancing once at the corpse. “What did you get?” 

”Someone who really doesn’t like the Ripper,” said Will. “The organs he takes as trophies are now discarded garbage. They see themselves as better than the Ripper and they’re trying to prove it.” 

”The Goddamn Ripper,” Jack muttered, losing one of his too-proud-to-be-a-sigh breaths. “Think they know who he is?” 

Will shook his head. “Not unless Carlton is the Ripper. There’s too much rage and jealousy here for me to think they’d leave the Ripper alive if they knew him.” 

”You think they want to kill the Ripper?” Price asked. 

”I think they wouldn’t turn down the opportunity if it was presented to them,” Will conceded, “but I don’t think it’s something they’re actively trying to achieve. Their focus right now is trying to make a name for themselves.” 

”What else?” said Jack. 

”They knew Carlton, but Carlton didn’t know them,” said Will. “This isn’t their first time killing, too confident for that. They try to present themselves as amicable and harmless. They’re Carlton’s age or younger, he wouldn’t trust someone older than him enough to let them in his…house. On the cameras, look for people with big bags, they had to have changed after all this mess.” 

Jack nodded. “I’ll send you the autopsy time once it’s finalized.” 

Will tensed. Beverly shot him a grimace. 

”Don’t think I’ll need it, Jack, I’m gonna be on a flight in a few hours,” Will reminded. 

”All right, I’ll have the reports forwarded to you once it’s done,” said Jack. 

Will took a breath. Zeller took a last photo of the body and retreated to the edges of the room like everyone else with half a brain cell. 

”I’d rather not bring work with me on my vacation,” Will said. 

”And I’d rather not have Ripper wannabes running around,” Jack replied, beginning to sound annoyed. 

It set Will off. “Well, catch them, then.” 

_”Excuse me?”_

Someone ran out the door, quickly followed by another. Those further from the door glared in envy. 

”You don’t need me around for that, Jack,” Will snapped. “You’ve got a team and, like I’ve said before, you’ve got a bunch of people who can do what I can do.” 

”Not the way you do,” Jack retorted. 

”The world won’t implode because I take a well deserved break,” Will shot back. “Am I done here?” 

”No.” 

”Great.” Will spun on his heel and started for the door. “Please, don’t send me anything. I’ll see you all next year.” 

_”Will!”_ Jack shouted. 

Will waved a hand over his shoulder. “Threaten me all you want—fire me, even, Hannibal will take care of me.” He heard Beverly laugh and quickly stifle it into a cough. 

_”Dammit, Will!”_

He sped down the hall and, miracle of miracles, the elevator doors opened just seconds after he pushed the button. He pushed the lobby button as well the one to close the doors and brought his phone out. Dialing Hannibal had his shoulders loosening. 

”Get me out of here before Jack comes up with a reason to arrest me,” Will said the moment Hannibal picked up. 

Hannibal chuckled. _”I assume you’re no longer at the scene.”_

”No, I’m on my way to the street,” Will answered. 

_”Would it not be safer to stay inside?”_ Hannibal suggested. 

”I can take care of myself,” Will said. 

_”That’s no reason to tempt fate.”_

Will hummed. The lobby was empty as he crossed it to get to the doors. He looked around the street. 

”There’s a café down the street, I can wait there, get a coffee with your card.” Will was already walking. 

_”That sounds like a very good idea,”_ said Hannibal. _”Let me say my goodbyes and I will be with you soon.”_

”Okay. Text me when you’re here and I’ll head out. I’d ask if you want me to get you anything, but…”

Hannibal laughed and, demonstrating how much better the speaker quality of his new phone was, a shiver went down Will’s spine. _”You know me well, darling.”_

Will smiled, opening the door of the café. They had an hour until closing, he’d be fine. “See you in a bit.” 

_”Of course, mon chéri.”_

Will hung up and ordered his coffee. He took a seat as out of view of the street window as possible. He texted Hannibal where he was and put his phone away, wincing as his fingers grazed his balled up jewelry. 

He took a fortifying swig of his coffee and dumped the tangled rings and chains onto the table. Might as well try to fix it while waiting. 

He’d only managed to untangle and put on one set before Hannibal texted. He polished off his coffee and left the café, the still tangled set in one hand. A smile curled his lips upon seeing his lover waiting by the passenger side door. Will made no effort to tamp down the urge to greet Hannibal with a kiss. 

”Hello, caro mio,” said Hannibal once Will released his lips. 

”Hi.” 

”There are strawberries waiting for you inside the car,” Hannibal told him, shifting to open the door. 

”Great,” said Will and slid inside, the seat pleasantly warm. He’d already finished one of the large strawberries by the time Hannibal got the car moving. Will had put the chains on the dashboard. 

”How did you get these exactly?” Will asked. 

”While I was saying goodbye to Dr. Luna,” Hannibal began, “I mentioned your disappointment at having to leave early and your enjoyment of the strawberries. She naturally offered to have me take some home.” 

”Sneaky.” Will offered Hannibal a strawberry. He bit off half before telling Will to have the rest. 

”May I ask why you were concerned about being arrested?” said Hannibal. 

Will licked some juice off his finger. “Jack wanted me to keep working on the case while vacationing and I _didn’t_. He’ll get over it.” 

”Will this be troublesome for your job?” 

”No,” Will answered, certain. “Jack'll fume for a while, try to find a way to force me to do it anyway, but he wouldn’t fire me. He thinks he needs me.” 

As they stopped at a red light, Hannibal glanced at him. “Does he not?” 

Will took a moment to think about it. “He doesn’t. He needs a profiler and I’m…a rare and valuable kind of profiler, but not irreplaceable.” 

”To him.” 

"What are you trying to say, Dr. Lecter?” asked Will, smiling. 

”That to me you are one of a kind and none could ever dream of taking your place,” Hannibal said. 

Will took one of Hannibal’s hands off the wheel to hold in his own. “You’re pretty special to me, too, you know.” 

Hannibal brought Will’s hand up for a kiss. “Good. You should sleep, darling. By the time we reach home, we’ll only have enough time to change and pack the car before we need to go to the airport.” 

”Can’t we sleep on the plane?” 

”Not for too long,” Hannibal answered. “We need to begin adjusting to Paris time. We will arrive in the evening, have dinner and go to sleep.” 

Will hummed. “Want me to drive us to the airport so you can sleep?” 

”I’ll be all right, caro mio, you need the rest more than I do.” 

”Sometimes I wonder if you need sleep at all.” 

Hannibal squeezed his hand. “Of course, I do.” 

”For some reason, that sounded very unconvincing.” Will shifted to get more comfortable, frowning as his phone dug into his thigh. 

He huffed and pulled it out. He put it on the dash, next to the tangled chains. 

”How much trouble would it be to just leave that here?” he asked. 

”Attempting to eliminate ways Jack can contact you?” said Hannibal. 

”Maybe.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “It won’t be any trouble at all, darling. Though, if I may make a suggestion, you could simply change your number.” 

Will put his seat back. “That is a _wonderful_ suggestion.”

Jack and this new killer would need to handle themselves.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:
> 
> 1) Most of the non-canon names used are from various other fandoms, virtual candy to the ones who can tell who and where.
> 
> 2) The Gourmet festival is, to my knowledge, made up. If it looks like something that's real, it is just a (hopefully) happy coincidence.
> 
> 3) I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT KATANAS SO IF IT SOUNDS STUPID PLEASE CORRECT ME.
> 
> Commentary:
> 
> I made a rough itenirary of their entire fucking vacation. Do y'all have any idea how wild it is to do that in the middle of covid? I kept getting little notifs from Google about "travel to this area is restricted at this time" and it's like, I'm sorry, man, I promise I'm not actually going there, not that I even can, but like, please don't worry about me, Google, I'm not _that_ stupid. Y'all better be staying as safe as you feasibly can out there!! I know some governments are being shitty so we might not be as safe as we should be, but try to stay as safe as you can!!
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter and sorry it's a bit on the short side!!

They were in Paris.

Well, they’d arrived yesterday, but Will had been too sleepy and tired to properly appreciate it. It was only just sinking in as he stood on a balcony in his pajamas gazing out at the Eiffel Tower in the near distance. 

He could only imagine how much this apartment cost with a view like this. An apartment, not a hotel room because Hannibal Lecter would rather die than not have access to a kitchen even in a gourmet food famous city like Paris. 

Will shivered and headed back inside. He hadn’t even bothered to put shoes on and his feet were near frozen. He got back into bed and tried to massage some warmth back into his extremities, a thick blanket on his shoulders. He heard something start sizzling in the aforementioned kitchen just down the hall. 

He was in Paris with his lover. Even just half a year ago he would’ve said such a thing was impossible and yet here he was. 

Speaking of lover; Will missed him. He went to their bags (still packed because Will demanded they go right to sleep last night) and dug out one of Hannibal’s silk dressing gowns that he’d packed for himself after he’d passed mildly obsessed to thoroughly obsessed with them. 

Hannibal hadn’t packed a lot. Unless Will had packed it himself, his clothes hadn’t left his half of the closet which was a bit odd, but didn’t really seem to be a concern. He shrugged the dressing gown on and headed out, the movement helping him further warm up. 

The main room of the apartment was a large open space: a combined kitchen, living room and dining room done in cool greys, deep blacks and icy blues; the windows were Art Nouveau and the kitchen separated from the rest of the room by a blue veined white marble counter. A low fire burned in the fire place near the plush couches. 

Hannibal looked up from the ramekin he was sliding onto a plate as Will sat on a bar stool across the counter. 

”Morning,” Will greeted. 

”Good morning,” said Hannibal. “I was expecting you to still be in bed.” 

Will shrugged. “I missed you. Plus, I went outside for a bit and I figured it would be warmer in a kitchen.” 

”Why would you go outside?” Hannibal questioned, placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of Will. 

Will wrapped his hands around it with a happy sigh. “I just wanted to let it sink in that I’m in Paris.” 

”Hopefully, breakfast will help with that,” said Hannibal, presenting Will with a loaded plate, with another in front of the seat next to him. “Oeufs cocotte made with ham, cream, chives and Gruyere, served with toast soldiers and rabbit sausage in case you crave more meat.” 

Will hummed. If anyone was craving meat here, it wasn’t him. 

”I also got some pain au chocolat from a corner bakery,” Hannibal added, putting another plate between them. 

”Always trying to spoil,” Will teased as Hannibal went around the counter. 

”What else would I be doing?” 

Hannibal kissed him before sitting down. After taking a few bites and expressing his usual appreciation, Will asked: “So, what are we doing today?” 

Hannibal put his spoon down. “You might have noticed we don’t have many clothes with us.” 

”Yeah,” Will answered slowly. “I kinda just thought you had some clothes brought here.” 

”Not quite,” said Hannibal. “We are in one of the fashion capitals of the world; it would be remiss of us not to go shopping.” 

Will took a moment to fully digest that. 

”So—” Will paused. Took a sip of his coffee. “What you’re saying is—we’re gonna go buy everything we’ll be wearing for the rest of the trip?” 

”Or until we get to Florence,” Hannibal said, “if you’d like to do more shopping there.” 

”Right.” Why was Will’s voice so tight? 

”There are certain things I’d like to purchase for you, but otherwise, you can choose anything and everything else,” Hannibal continued. “You need only say you want it and you shall have it.” 

Will swallowed. 

Hannibal cupped his neck. “Do you have any protests?” 

Will shook his head. “I mean, otherwise I won’t have any clothes, right?” 

”If that’s what you feel you need to say.” Hannibal tilted his head. “Are we doing all our shopping in Paris or shall we also shop in Florence?” 

”Florence, too,” Will answered. A thumb traced his jaw and sent lightning down to his cock. Hannibal’s smile had just a bit too much teeth. 

"As you wish, mon chéri.” He kissed Will before slowly pulling away, Will chasing after him, until he nearly tipped out of his chair. 

Will hated him. 

  


=¤=

Going clothes shopping was…a very mixed experience. It was a bit like the day they’d bought Will’s phone: a mix of embarrassment and arousal that culminated in him getting bent over the hood of the Bentley. 

Like that, but times fifty because Hannibal was being an _asshole_ , doing anything and everything he could to work Will up. 

Asking Will for his opinions; encouraging him to get more, to try some more “unique" (read: weird) items and nigh constantly touching him. If Will wasn’t trying stuff on, Hannibal had a hand on him: on his shoulder, his back, his waist, his hip—usually his hip and when it _was_ on his hip, Hannibal would slide his hand down to squeeze or caress Will’s butt, occasionally in full view of the citizens of Paris when they were putting their purchases in the car Hannibal had rented. Will had to keep his coat buttoned up in an effort to a) not show what was going on in the front of his tight pants and b) provide a buffer to Hannibal’s touches. The coat (a new one in deep blue because Hannibal convinced him) only managed one. 

Feel free to take a guess which. 

Will was steadily creeping closer and closer to losing it and pushing Hannibal into an alley for a quick fuck. 

So, he decided to have some fun himself. 

He kept pressing unnecessarily close to Hannibal; _accidentally_ brushing against Hannibal’s cock; whispering into Hannibal’s ear—at one point, with no one nearby, he’d called Hannibal “Daddy" and gotten a low growl and a discreet slap to the thigh. 

He occasionally outright asked for things: like another of the same thing in a different color or pattern; or for Hannibal to get something that matched; or if Hannibal liked what he was wearing accompanied by a quick turn. 

That tactic affected him as much as Hannibal, though—the way Hannibal looked at him when he got a just a bit too daring made Will’s mouth run dry and his legs tremble—so it wasn’t the _smartest_ thing. 

It was _fun_ , though. 

At the end of the shopping trip, the many (many, _many_ ) bags were left dumped in the living room in favor of a long, hard round of sex. 

The next day, they hit some of the typical tourist spots, Will telling Hannibal about his Dad’s little tradition of getting some silly souvenir whenever they left a place. Will still had a few of them tucked away in an old box. Hannibal helped him add to the collection. They had lunch and dinner at the Eiffel Tower, looking out at Paris in both the daylight and the moonlight. Hannibal approved of both restaurants and took note of anything Will expressed a liking for. He’d probably be replicating some for Will once they got home. 

The day after, they went to some more discreet, out of the way places, spots Hannibal remembered from his time in Paris. They went to a gallery with works by a very old woman who had taught Hannibal art. She scolded Hannibal in French for (as Hannibal told him later) daring to come to her without bringing some of his drawings. Hannibal promised to come visit again with a sketchbook before leaving. She complimented Will’s curls in heavily accented English and said she’d love to draw them both. 

Their fourth day in Paris, Will was woken up early and brought to a bustling marketplace. It didn’t really occur to Will to ask what they were doing until after he’d finished two croissants and was halfway through his coffee thermos. 

"The man who owns the building of the apartment we're renting is an acquaintance,” said Hannibal, eyes on various bottles of honey. “He agreed to rent one out for only a week instead of a month in exchange for dinner for him and his wife.” 

”So, that’s the plan for today?” Will asked, pulling up his hood and covering his thermos with a hand as snow began to fall around them. He felt incredibly grateful that Hannibal had made him wear a thermal shirt and pants before heading out. 

”Yes,” Hannibal answered, pulling up his own hood. “His wife has recently given birth so I need to make something healthy.” 

Will hummed. “Is the baby coming with them?” 

”Bab _ies_ ,” Hannibal corrected. “And, no, the twins will not be coming with their parents.” 

He watched Hannibal pay for two glass bottles of honey and put them into the already bulging bag he held. He was led away to a mushroom stand. “I get the feeling this is your version of souvenir shopping.” 

Hannibal gave him a smile. “Perhaps.” 

”How exactly do you know this guy?” said Will. 

”He was an older student who took me under his wing when I stopped being homeschooled,” Hannibal explained. “He introduced me to many people and my acquaintance with him afforded and continues to afford me many opportunities.” 

”Do you know his wife?” 

”Unfortunately, no,” said Hannibal. “They met after I’d left Paris and when he visited me some years ago, she couldn’t come with him due to complications with her health.” 

”You already know what you’re making?” Will asked as mushrooms disappeared into the bag. 

”I do,” Hannibal responded. “It will take some time and I would like your help.” 

Will narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling Hannibal was asking for more than the usual little tasks he had Will do when he was in the kitchen. “Really?” 

”Of course. I think it will be enjoyable.” 

”All right.” Will shrugged, still suspicious. “Don’t expect me to do anything too complicated.” 

”I promise to help you if needed, darling.” 

They went for some spices next. 

  


=¤=

Cooking with Hannibal, thankfully, wasn’t as terrifying as Will’s brain had tried to convince him it would be and he, unsurprisingly, learned a lot. Such as peanut butter not being too hard to make and that Will had apparently picked up a pretty good cooking technique from a burly fisherman years ago. Hannibal seemed pleased by it. 

Tempering chocolate had been a hassle, but Will had enjoyed eating the excess (at least until Hannibal had taken the bowl away, saying he’d ruin his appetite). Wrapping the dates in bacon had also been fun if only because it was easier to sneak dates into his mouth than spoonfuls of chocolate. 

Hannibal still noticed, though, and gently bopped the back of Will’s hand with the handle of a spatula. Will threw a date at him. Hannibal caught it in his mouth, somehow looking elegant while doing it. 

Hannibal eventually deemed everything in the right states of done and they got ready to receive Mr. and Mrs. Roche. 

Hannibal picked out Will’s clothes and they both managed to keep the touching to a minimum as they got dressed resulting in them being miraculously ready to greet their guests when they arrived. 

Jean Roche was a bit taller than Hannibal, his wife Marinette, a bit shorter than Will. They both had green eyes and salt and pepper hair, Marinette's a bit grayer than Jean's. They were dressed a bit formally, the usual dress code for dinner with Hannibal. 

They got introductions over with and Hannibal led them to the dinner table, saying: “I hope you’re both hungry.” 

Jean laughed. “Do you think I would ever dare come to you not, Hannibal?” 

”I’m glad to see someone has self-control,” Hannibal commented. 

Will rolled his eyes. “It was six dates, you ate the seventh.” 

”And how many spoonfuls of chocolate?” 

”That, I wasn’t counting.” 

Will helped Hannibal with serving everything. Jean commented on what an honor that was—one that he had never been given due to his inability to cook without setting off a fire alarm. 

Marinette said he could now cook eggs without burning them. Hannibal congratulated him. 

They shared stories about their twin girls and the storm that necessitated renovations for their estate. They were invited to visit it sometime, Jean reassuring Hannibal that he’d be allowed run of the kitchen if their chefs didn’t meet his standards. 

”That reminds me,” Jean said as they were finishing off their second to last course of salad with ricotta and crushed pecans. “You will be attending the festival, won’t you?” 

”Of course,” Hannibal answered and elaborated upon Will’s curious look. “The Gourmet festival in two days. There will be a competition and the chefs will also serve samples for visitors. This year’s theme is eel.” 

”Sounds like fun,” Will said. “Been a while since I had eel. Someone tried to teach me how to gut one once, but then we had to move.” 

”I’ve been told it’s very hard to do,” said Jean. 

”Will the both of you also be attending the banquet afterwards?” Marinette asked. 

Hannibal nodded. “Nica procured an invitation for me.” 

”Nica?” Jean mused. “Belmont? Goodness, I haven’t spoken to her in years.” 

”So, I’ve heard,” said Hannibal. “She asked me to speak to you about it.” 

Jean tipped his head. “Consider me spoken to.” 

”Is everyone ready for dessert?” inquired Hannibal, getting to his feet once he got an affirmative. He returned bearing the peanut butter cups with a cage of lacy tempered chocolate and blueberry sauce. 

”I feel bullied by all these nuts, Hannibal,” Jean drawled. 

”Whatever do you mean, old friend?” said Hannibal, returning to his seat. 

”You adore peanuts,” Marinette said. 

”I do,” agreed Jean. “An overseas friend introduced me to peanut butter and I became obsessed with it. My parents tried to cut me off because they thought it was disgusting, but Hannibal here helped me out. Pulled some strings and secreted me peanut butter sandwiches in exchange for favors.” 

Hannibal smirked. “I still have three more I have yet to cash in.” 

”You were a cruel man to take advantage of one in distress, Lecter,” Jean chided. 

”I learned it from you, Roche,” Hannibal returned. 

Jean laughed at the response. Will and Marinette exchanged an amused look. 

”It was a sad day when you left Paris,” said Jean. “I understand, of course, but it doesn’t lessen my sadness.” 

”My door is always open to both of you,” Hannibal said. 

”How is Lady Murasaki?” 

Will caught the tension that briefly flickered in Hannibal’s eyes, the slight stiffness to his shoulders. Neither of the Roches seemed to notice. 

”To my knowledge she is doing well,” said Hannibal. 

Jean nodded. “Good. She deserves nothing but good things after everything.” 

”I agree,” said Hannibal and Will could tell he was being truthful. 

"So do you, Hannibal,” Jean insisted. “I trust you’ve been happy.” 

Hannibal glanced at Will. His lips ticked up into a smile. “Very much so.” 

Will flushed. Jean grinned. Marinette giggled behind her hand. Hannibal had a smug look on his face that Will wanted to kick off. Or kiss off. He wasn’t too sure, maybe both. 

Talk went back to the Gourmet festival as they finished their desserts and migrated to the living room for coffee. Hannibal and Jean discussed the competing chefs while Will showed Marinette pictures of his dogs. Will might also have done some cooing over a few pictures of her babies. He had no interest in children of his own, but he had nothing against other people’s. 

The Roches eventually left saying they should save their staff from their children and that they’d next meet during the festival. Will and Hannibal quietly washed the dishes to the sound of a soothing orchestra piece playing from hidden speakers. Afterwards, Will was given ownership of the remaining unused chocolate cages. He took all of them to the couch where he leaned against Hannibal’s side as he partook in his nightly reading. 

Will felt a bit sleepy, but he didn’t want to go to bed just yet. He broke off another piece of chocolate and let it melt a little on his tongue before swallowing. There was a question rolling around his head, but he wasn’t too sure when to bring it up. 

He licked his fingers clean and decided there was no time like the present. 

”Hannibal?” 

”Yes, darling?” 

Will shifted to properly look at him. “There’s something I want to ask you, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

Hannibal closed his book, a finger marking the page he was on. “What is it, mon chéri?” 

Will took a breath. “What was the ‘everything’ Jean was talking about when he said your aunt deserved nothing but good things?” 

Hannibal's shoulders went stiff again, but it wasn’t like earlier. This wasn’t a pang of old hurt, this was a wary predator, watching and waiting. Will ate some more chocolate, trying to appear harmless. 

”He was talking about what happened to my Uncle Robertus,” said Hannibal. Will nodded, willing to let it go if Hannibal wanted, but hoping for more. 

Hannibal put his book down and kissed Will’s forehead. “Let me tell you about James Momund. 

"He was a butcher. Skilled, I suppose, but not very well liked. While I was accompanying my aunt about the market one day, we encountered him. He spouted vitriol and derogatory comments to her about her race and went so far as laying a hand on her. She stopped me from doing anything rash. 

”Word had gotten back to my uncle and he decided to speak with Momund. Lady Murasaki attempted to convince him that babble from uncouth swine held no importance to her, but he would not be swayed. 

”Lady Murasaki is very skilled with a blade and she taught me all she knew. Uncle Robertus, however, was a pacifist; he was a patient and generous man, endlessly kind to anyone. 

”So, when Momund became enraged, he could not fight back. He died that night and the Lady Murasaki was left heartbroken. 

"A few days after the funeral, James Momund's severed head was found on a silver platter in the market square.” 

Will sucked in a breath. Hannibal put a hand on his thigh. Will licked his lips. “What happened to the rest of him?” 

Hannibal began gently stroking Will’s thigh. “His mutilated body was found by his usual fishing spot. It was covered in marks made by a long blade.” 

Will thought of the samurai armor outside Hannibal’s bedroom. Of the katana displayed with it. Of the fact that he’d once seen Hannibal coating it with something he called Choji oil with all the ease of someone who’d done it millions of times before. Of the seamless, elegant way he moved when doing a few exercises with it. 

”Did the police find out who did it?” Will asked, voice low. 

Hannibal smirked, though there was still caution in his eyes. “They never pinned the crime on someone, no, though they investigated thoroughly. Given his altercation with my uncle, I was questioned as well.” 

Will’s heart was racing. “Really?” 

”Yes. I was very cooperative. I even consented to a polygraph test and they found nothing.” 

”Well,” said Will, “it’s not like there was anything to find, right?” 

The smirk widened. “Not a thing, darling.” 

Being able to fool a lie detector shouldn’t be arousing. 

”Perhaps _you_ could have found the culprit,” Hannibal said. 

”I’m not too sure about that,” Will replied, squirming a little since Hannibal was rubbing his thumb along the line between his thigh and crotch. “Can I ask you something else?” 

”Of course, mon chéri.” 

Will licked his lips again. “Did Momund die before or after the soldiers?” 

Hannibal looked equally pleased and wary. “Before. A week or so later, I visited the old Lecter manor and found one of the soldiers in a nearby town.” 

”So, you decided to look for the rest of them?” asked Will. 

”Precisely.” 

Everything felt a little hazy. He wanted to ask for more detail about what happened to the soldiers so he could see them as clearly as James Momund despite not knowing his face. He had a feeling, however, that he’d pushed Hannibal enough for one night. 

”Can we go to bed?” said Will, trying to shift Hannibal’s hand to his erection. 

”You still have sweets left, my dear.” Hannibal picked up one of the two remaining chocolate cages and rubbed it under Will’s eye. Chocolate smeared on Will’s skin and Hannibal licked it away. 

Will took a moment to remember the importance of oxygen. 

”Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to play with your food, Dr. Lecter?” Will rasped out as Hannibal rubbed chocolate onto Will’s neck and sucked it away. He squeezed Hannibal’s biceps, gasping. 

”My apologies. Let me properly devour you, then, mano širdis,” Hannibal whispered. 

Will whimpered. He lay back on the couch, pulling Hannibal between his legs. Hannibal didn’t bother with Will’s shirt buttons, he just pushed the shirt up and started tracing lines on Will’s chest with chocolate. 

Hannibal licked it all away, nipping at Will’s skin and grinding their cocks together. Will tugged on Hannibal’s hair and moaned. 

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his Ravenstag nosing at a severed head on a silver platter framed by the light of the rising sun.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know French, please send help.
> 
> There is a ridiculously long sentence in this chapter and I love that sentence for no other reason than how ridiculously long it is.
> 
> PLEASE READ END NOTES.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, my friends.

Will looked around the convention hall one last time as he and Hannibal left. Sampling the competing dishes had been an interesting experience, eel was a fairly rare thing for him. There were also samples of previous winning dishes and things from local restaurants and bakeries. Smaller rooms off the hall contained experts holding lectures on recent discoveries in gastronomy and simple cooking lessons for kids. It was open to anyone willing to pay a small fee and half the proceeds were donated to charities feeding the homeless.

Will enjoyed it and when he’d told Hannibal as much, Hannibal had given him that smile that was only for Will. 

Will adored him. 

Yesterday, they’d just walked around Paris while Hannibal told him stories, Will sharing some of his own whenever something reminded him of something else. 

At one point, Hannibal had nodded down a side street to a certain building and told Will to remember it before continuing their stroll. 

Hannibal said he’d found one of the soldiers there. The one with the daughter the same age as Hannibal’s sister. She and her mother had been informed of their father/husband’s transgressions. 

The building had also been the _last_ place Hannibal had seen the soldier. 

He hadn’t outright said it, but Will understood. He’d look up the address later when Hannibal wasn’t looking. With any luck there would be photos floating around. 

The thought had excited him. 

Will had ignored Hannibal’s curious and suspicious glances. From his perspective, it probably didn’t make any sense that Will was so calm and accepting of the fact that he’d successfully gotten away with the murder of six people (only six in Hannibal’s mind, since he thought those were the only ones Will knew about). 

Despite all the questions that had to be burning on his tongue, he gave voice to none of them. He was content, for now, to leave things as they were. 

Will put the past out of his mind. He tucked himself closer to Hannibal as they stepped out onto the sunset lit Paris streets. 

Hannibal smiled at him. “The Banquet is in a hotel just across the street. Shall we go now or take a walk first?” 

Will thought about it. “Let’s go now, we’ve done enough standing around.” 

”Are your legs tired?” Hannibal asked as they went to the pedestrian crossing. 

”Just a little,” said Will. “We’ll mostly be sitting down, right?” 

”Yes,” Hannibal answered. “There will be a twelve course dinner made by one of the previous winners of the competition. This time it is a winner from three years ago, a woman by the name of Priya Chawla specializing in North Indian cuisine.” 

"Twelve?” 

”The portions are sized so no one overeats and everyone finishes each course,” Hannibal reassured. 

They crossed the street and went back down to the hotel. 

”Will there be a lot of people?” said Will. 

”Invitations were went to only fifty people,” Hannibal explained. “Each one allows for two seats, so the maximum number of guests is a hundred plus ten who make up the upper echelons of the festival committee and twenty press members. After dinner, there will be an auction for special ingredients and cookbooks as well as the latest in cooking gadgetry; all money garnered by the auction goes to scholarship funds for culinary institutions.” 

Will’s brows rose. “How very philanthropic.” 

Hannibal smirked. “They will rejoice in any opportunity to show off their wealth.” 

”And you’re not one of them?” Will teased as they headed up the hotel steps. 

”I have other ways of showing off,” said Hannibal and the _way_ he said it had Will narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

”Dr. Lecter?” 

A short haired woman in the hotel’s uniform approached them the moment they passed through the doors. She and Hannibal had a quick exchange in French before she led them away in the opposite direction as the ballroom holding the Banquet. 

”Hannibal?” said Will. 

”The Banquet is black tie, mon chéri,” Hannibal replied with a meaningful glance at the casual clothes under their thick winter coats. “We need to change.” 

”So, what, you got us a room just for us to change in?” Will asked. 

”Not quite,” said Hannibal. “This hotel has been hosting the post-Festival Banquet since the third Festival decades ago. Many of the guests come directly from the Festival and so special changing rooms were made for them.” 

”Uh-huh.” Will wondered how aware Hannibal was of how ridiculous that sounded. “When did you send our clothes over?” 

”Just this morning,” Hannibal said as the woman opened a door for them. “The clothes we are wearing now will be sent back once we’ve left this room, so make sure not to leave anything important in your pockets.” 

Will didn’t respond due to absorbing the “changing room" they’d just entered. God, these people were absolutely ridiculous. 

The design of the room was just barely not ostentatious with the accents of gold and intricate crown moulding, but that wasn’t really the ridiculous part. No, it was the basket of fruit and champagne in the little seating area to the right and the large pair of vanities to the left and the showers in the back. It took Will a moment to find their clothes on a rack just beyond the seating area. A stack of fluffy robes and towels were in a basket near the showers. 

_Good God._

The door closed behind them. Hannibal helped Will with his coat. “Thoughts?” he asked. 

”Pretty sure you know what’s running through my head,” Will said. 

”I’m not a mind reader,” said Hannibal. 

”You’re not an idiot, either,” Will shot back. 

Hannibal laughed, hanging both their coats up. “Just enjoy things, my dear, don’t think on it too much. At the very least, I turned down the offer for a hairdresser and make up artist.” 

”Oh, my God.” 

Hannibal laughed again. “Shower?” 

Will just nodded. 

Honestly, aside from the place, it felt a bit like getting ready back home. Long fingers massaging Will’s scalp while Will put soap on a tan, toned body. They snuck in a few kisses, careful not to take things too far. They dried off, Hannibal going at Will’s hair with a blow drier while they were both in the soft robes. 

When Will made to get dressed, Hannibal stopped him. “Just a moment. There’s something I’d like to ask you to do for me, if you’re amenable.” 

Will watched as Hannibal dug around a bag set by the rack. He eventually held something up and Will felt his face burn. 

”Something to keep you entertained,” said Hannibal. "Are you willing?” 

”I wouldn’t say I’m _not_ willing,” Will replied. 

”I’m going to need something a bit better than that, darling. Yes or no?” 

Will chewed on his lip. “Yes.” 

Hannibal smiled and returned to Will in front of the vanities. He dropped a kiss onto Will’s lips. 

”Bend over, my dear.” 

  


=¤=

Will shouldn’t have bent over. He really shouldn’t have. Christ, why the hell had he? This wasn’t _entertaining_ in the least! He should’ve shot the idea down the moment Hannibal had shown him the buttplug. 

It wasn’t too thick, a little less than a finger and a half in width. The problem was that it was slightly curved and Hannibal had positioned it so if he moved just so it rubbed against Will’s prostate. 

It had been fine when they’d been sitting down eating—the food had been amazing; spicy in the ‘full of spices' sense not the ‘spicy hot' sense, though there were some of those, too (Hannibal had started a little competition at their table about who could name the most spices present in each dish, everyone seemed impressed that he could name all of them, Will just hid a smile behind his drink)—but once dinner ended, they began walking around and…

Will was glad most people were speaking French. He had an excuse to zone out and focus on keeping his dick down. 

It wasn’t working too well, but it was working enough. He was mildly concerned that everyone thought he was some kind of drunkard with how flushed he had to be, but, honestly, he had bigger worries. The Roches had been concerned about him, but Will assured them everything was fine. 

His hands were trembling where they were wrapped around Hannibal’s arm as they left the Roches and wandered near the auction again. There was apparently a couple of things Hannibal was interested in. 

Whether he was actually interested in something or interested in torturing Will was up in the air. 

”All right, darling?” Hannibal asked. 

”You know I’m not, asshole,” Will grumbled. 

”Language,” Hannibal chided, belied by his amusement. 

”Screw you,” Will returned. Hannibal just laughed. 

”Would you like to sit down for a bit?” said Hannibal. 

Will let out a relieved sigh. “That sounds great.” 

Hannibal led him back to the table they’d had dinner on and left him there for a moment while he got refreshments. Will just breathed and made sure he was sitting on the plug in a non-hazardous way. He tried not to think of the promises Hannibal had whispered to him as he had eased the plug in. 

A hand appeared on the back of the seat next to him. “Excusez-moi, cette place est prise?” a female voice asked. 

Will looked up to find a young woman with blond hair and light brown eyes. Her make up was applied with a light hand showing the freckles on her cheeks. 

”Sorry?” he said. 

”Oh, English,” she said, accent barely noticeable. “Is this seat free?” 

”Yeah,” Will replied. 

”Thank you,” she chirped and sat down. “I’m Penelope Auer.” 

”Will Graham.” 

”My apologies for bothering you, but I thought I had encountered a like soul,” said Penelope giving a pointed glance at Will’s hands and hair. 

More specifically, the new jewelry Hannibal had gotten from God knew where. Another bangles and rings set, this time in shiny silver and ivory, the chains forming a web like design on the back of Will’s hands (contrasting almost prettily with the fine scars on his left). A bit above Will’s ear was a strip of ivory with a few dripping chains leading to more ivory and an ear cuff. 

Will looked at her a little more closely. Noting the fine fabric of her white to pale yellow dress, the crystals dotting the sweetheart neckline and the delicate metalwork of her gold bracelets. He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about, but wasn’t too sure. 

He tilted his head. “I don’t think I know what you mean.” 

She giggled. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but we both have…sponsors, yes?” 

Ah. Will nodded just once, unable to help a smile at Penelope’s open delight. “Where’s your _sponsor_?”

”The gorgeous woman over there in violet,” said Penelope, gesturing. 

Will followed her hand to a dark haired, slightly older woman in a black accented violet dress conversing with a pair of men whose lust for her Will could sense from half a room away. 

”And yours, Mr. Graham?” 

Will smiled. “The tallest one in that group.” He watched her find and assess Hannibal who had been drawn into a conversation with their drinks in his hands. 

”Very nice to look at,” said Penelope. 

”So's yours,” Will replied. 

”Why, thank you.” Penelope bowed her head gracefully. “I’ve been looking all night for someone to talk to. My friend wanted to come to this Banquet as well, but he couldn’t find a sponsor in time. Well, he did find one, months ago, but he had to drop her since she was apparently _awful_ in bed—too awful to put up with until the Banquet. I’ve been sending him photos all night.” 

"Does he appreciate it?” Will inquired. 

Penelope waved a hand. “Oh, absolutely not. He keeps threatening to kidnap my cat. Now, ma dame is simply _wonderful_ in the bedroom. Are you as lucky as me?” 

Will laughed a little. “I have nothing to complain about.” 

Penelope grinned. “Is he a Parisian?” 

”He spent a few years here,” Will answered, “but we met in the U.S. We’re on vacation.” 

”Is it your first time here?” she asked. 

”Yeah,” Will said. “Though, we’re leaving the day after tomorrow.” 

Penelope sighed wistfully. “Ma dame took me on a Caribbean cruise last summer. The first day I reacted badly to some oysters and she almost called the whole trip off. We found out that day that I was allergic to shellfish. Ma dame was so sweet taking care of me and she’s since removed shellfish from her diet in solidarity.” 

”You like each other a lot,” Will observed. 

”I love her,” Penelope corrected. “By some grace of God, she also loves me. Are you as lucky as me, there, too? Or is it strictly business?” 

Will glanced at Hannibal. “I think he loves me and I definitely love him,” he said. “But I haven’t told him yet.” 

”Why not?” Penelope said. “It might be a risk, but no matter the outcome, it is always better to say such things. I am of the opinion that it is _never_ too early to say those words as long as it’s true.” 

”There are…outside circumstances I have to take into account,” Will replied. 

Penelope tapped long, butter yellow nails on the table. “I won’t pry, but how much of a complication do these ‘outside circumstances' pose?” 

Will sighed. “Not too much if I’m being honest.” 

”What is the best way to remove the ‘circumstances’?” 

”A conversation.” 

”Then, I must confess I don’t see the problem.” 

Will sighed again. “The problem is my own worrying about it.” 

Penelope patted his arm. “I wish you courage, Mr. Graham. Love is such a wonderful thing, you shouldn’t let it slip from your fingers if you can help it.” 

”I’ll talk to him soon,” Will reassured. “Even if it doesn’t go well, one way or another I’ll make it work.” He shifted a little without thinking and mentally cursed. “Despite how cruel he can get.” 

For a moment, Penelope looked concerned, but Will must’ve given something away because she giggled. “We have much more in common than I suspected.” 

Will raised a brow. “Are you getting tortured, too?” 

Penelope nodded, pouting as if miserable though her eyes were bright. “Ma dame has a remote in her clutch.” 

Will winced. “I lucked out then, no remotes.” 

”Oh, I am very much enjoying myself,” said Penelope. “It will give me an excuse to drag her away later. I have it on good authority that the staff corridors should be empty from this point on,” she added in a whisper. 

”Really?” 

She nodded and leaned closer, Will following. “A friend of mine who works here informed me that there are rooms for unused equipment, but most are locked, so it’s better to find one of the offshoot hallways containing old decorations.” 

Will nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Penelope opened her mouth to say more, but before she could, she jerked slightly, hand clenching in the white tablecloth and flushing. Will remembered what she’d said about a remote and glanced discreetly at the woman in the purple dress. She was staring at their table, hand in her clutch. 

”I believe that is my cue to leave,” said Penelope, a bit breathless. “I would apologize but your sponsor appears to be returning.” 

Will found she was right, Hannibal was stalking closer, a possessive glint in his eyes. Will shivered. 

”Thank you for your company,” Will said. 

”Thank you for yours.” She stood. “I hope we see each other again and I wish you an enjoyable night, Mr. Graham.” 

”You, too, Ms. Auer.” 

She speed walked in the direction of her sponsor and Will turned his attention to his own. Hannibal took a seat on Will’s other side, putting a glass with two fingers of whiskey in front of Will. 

”You’re making friends,” said Hannibal. 

”Kind of,” Will replied. He ignored Hannibal’s subtle prompt to talk in favor of sipping his whiskey. He was at least guaranteed that places like this had the good stuff. 

Hannibal didn’t seem to appreciate Will’s choices as he put his wine glass down, pulled Will’s chair closer and dropped a hand onto Will’s cock. 

_”Hannibal.”_

Hannibal kept leisurely rubbing for a few seconds before edging his hand down. They were fairly well hidden by the table, their backs protected by a wall, but this was still _not_ a smart thing to do. Yet Will edged his thighs apart, giving Hannibal access that was eagerly taken advantage of. Fingers nudged at the plug nestled in Will’s hole, making him pant and attempt to hide his face behind his glass. 

”You should calm down, darling,” Hannibal said, voice so level that Will wanted to throw his whiskey in his face. Or, better yet, kick him in the nuts. “They will be auctioning a delivery of three pounds of Fortunato No.4 per month for a year and a month and we wont be leaving until I have it.” 

”When will it be up?” Will choked out. The heel of Hannibal’s hand was rubbing Will’s balls. 

Hannibal checked his watch. “Given how things are going, I would say in ten or fifteen minutes.” 

_Oh, thank God._ “Just enough time, then,” Will proclaimed. He out his whiskey down, grabbed Hannibal’s hand and stood up, trying to hide his crotch behind the table. He tugged Hannibal to his feet with a grumbled “Come on.” 

”The bathrooms aren’t very private, darling,” said Hannibal, letting Will drag him around. 

”Don’t worry, that’s not where we’re going,” Will replied. The jostling of the plug due to his walking really wasn’t helping, but they reached a staff only door without incident. Will looked around quickly then slipped through, pulling on Hannibal’s wrist. He caught a glimpse of Hannibal’s amused smile. 

_Thank God for Penelope Auer,_ Will thought as they walked down empty, dimly lit halls, Will not bothering with any doors. Finally, Will found a good place: a dead end hallway with no lights on, several overflowing boxes and bits of metal stands and signs. 

Will led Hannibal in, past a box of fake pastries and a cardboard cut out of someone Will was willing to bet was some kind of politician, to a spot he was pretty sure wouldn’t be seen by anyone passing by. None of the boxes were stacked high enough to completely hide them, they were just behind the highest stack which only went up to their chests. 

He pushed Hannibal against the wall and pressed in close, rubbing their hips together with a soft moan. _”Hannibal.”_

Hannibal hummed and grabbed Will by the asscheeks, pushing them together around the base of the plug. Will cried out—and again when Hannibal spun them around so it was Will pinned against the wall, trapped by the boxes on one side, another cardboard cut out on the other and Hannibal’s warm, hard body in front of him. 

”Oh, my God, Hannibal.” 

”My dear Will,” Hannibal whispered and licked the shell of Will’s ear. Will shivered. Hannibal undid Will’s tuxedo pants and pushed them down with his lace and silk underwear. 

He dropped down to his knees, Will gasping as his cock disappeared between Hannibal’s lips. Will slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his sounds while Hannibal bobbed his head. He reached around Will and began thrusting the plug deeper into Will, making Will bring his other hand up to his mouth, legs shaking. 

Fuck, Will _needed_ Hannibal inside him. 

Will said as much and whimpered when Hannibal pulled off his cock. “Please repeat that, mon chéri, I couldn’t understand you.” 

Will blinked and realized his hands were still over his mouth. He lowered them, dropping one into Hannibal’s hair. “Fuck me, please? I need you in me.” 

Hannibal smiled, hunger clear in his eyes even in the dark. 

He rose up, nipping along Will’s jaw while undoing Will’s bowtie and top buttons. Will gasped, grabbing at Hannibal’s back, partly for something to hold on to, partly because Hannibal liked Will clinging to him and Will was all too happy to do whatever made _Hannibal_ happy. 

Hannibal moved down to suck bruises onto Will’s collarbone once enough buttons were undone. Will shuddered as the plug was eased out. 

”Hold on to this, darling,” said Hannibal, putting the slick, warm plug in Will’s hand, his rings clinking against the toy. Will mumbled an assent, too distracted by a hard cock pressing against his hip. 

Will’s head thumped back into the wall when fingers pushed inside him. He tried to spread his legs more, impeded by the pants around his thighs. Hannibal licked the hollow at the base of Will’s throat. 

Another finger poked at Will’s hole and he pushed back to get in. “Oh, God,” he sighed, stuffed with three fingers. 

Hannibal laughed, breath cooling Will’s saliva wet skin. “Are you prepared enough?” 

”Yeah, sure, yes, please,” Will answered quickly. 

Hannibal wiggled his fingers, making Will jump. “Are you sure, mon chéri?” 

Honestly, Will probably wasn’t, he was a bit too dry, but his patience had left him ages ago. “It’s fine Hannibal, please, _please_."

Hannibal moved up to nibble on Will’s earlobe, thinking about it. Will grabbed Hannibal’s cock through his pants, loving the way he bucked into Will’s touch. 

A flash of movement caught Will’s eye and he instinctively looked over. He found Penelope who’d somehow managed to spot him despite the dark. She was peeking around the corner, grinning when Will met her eyes. She flashed him a thumbs up, blew a kiss and disappeared. He saw a flicker of purple. So, she’d dragged her sponsor away, too. 

Will huffed a laugh which quickly turned into a choked off moan when Hannibal attacked his prostate. 

”That was the woman you were talking to,” said Hannibal. 

”Yeah,” Will answered. “Pretty sure—ah—she was with her sugar mommy.” 

Hannibal drew back, raising a brow. “She thought she’d found a kindred spirit in you.” 

Will raised a brow right back. “Didn’t she?” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Say it, mano širdis.” 

Will kissed him long and slow, licking at his teeth. He whispered against Hannibal’s lips: “Fuck me, please, Daddy?” 

”As you wish.” 

Fingers were pulled out of him then Will was being turned around. He braced himself on the wall, hand tight around the plug, ass pushed back. Hannibal molded his body to Will’s, almost too hot, but wonderful. 

Will tilted his head to give Hannibal room to lick and bite. He shivered upon hearing Hannibal unzipping his pants. 

_”Yes.”_

A hot cockhead nudged his way hole and began pushing in, in, _in_ …

Will clawed at the wall. “More, Hannibal, more, _please, more._ ”

”Try again.” 

Will whined. “Daddy, more, please. Please? Come on, didn’t you wanna go back to the auction? _More, please._ ”

”Is that how you’re trying to convince me, darling?” Hannibal asked, amused. 

”Please,” Will repeated. He turned his head to kiss Hannibal’s jaw. “Please, Daddy.” 

”Very well, then.” 

He slammed the rest of his stiff cock in, Will desperately biting down on his lip to hold back his pleasured cry. Hannibal pistoned his hips, fast and hard and so _fucking_ good. 

Hannibal reached up and cupped Will’s chin to tug Will’s lip free with a thumb. “You’re going to make yourself bleed, mon chéri,” he said. 

”Sorry, Daddy,” Will murmured and sucked Hannibal’s thumb into his mouth. He made a pleased noise at Hannibal’s responding shiver. 

Hannibal fucked even harder, both of them knowing this had to be quick. Which was why Will was surprised when Hannibal grabbed the base of Will’s cock with his free hand to keep him from coming. 

”No—Daddy,” Will protested, slurred around Hannibal’s thumb. 

”Not just yet, my dear,” Hannibal replied. “You don’t want to make a mess, do you?” 

Will just keened. He squeezed when Hannibal pulled out, edged back to meet him when he thrust in, his muffled moans mixing with Hannibal’s soft grunts. 

Hannibal’s hips stuttered, his thrusts getting shorter, creeping closer to filling Will with his come. Will sucked eagerly on Hannibal’s thumb, drool running down his hand. The grip on his cock hurt in all the right ways. 

Hannibal came with a grunt of Will’s name, warmth coating Will’s insides. Will moaned with a smile, pleased to have brought Hannibal pleasure. 

Will’s cock was leaking. 

”Clench your hole, darling,” said Hannibal. “Don’t let it drip.” 

Will nodded blearily and did as he was told. Hannibal took the plug from him and pulled out. He got the toy in immediately so Will could relax, though not too much seeing as his erection was still throbbing and his hole was a bit too loose to hold on to the plug as effortlessly as earlier. 

”Turn around,” Hannibal ordered. 

Again, Will obeyed, slumping back against the wall. Hannibal kissed him, tugging on Will’s cock. Will trembled, knees threatening to give out. 

Hannibal drew away and pulled his pocket square out of its home. He held it up to Will’s mouth. “Would you like to bite down on this?” 

Will nodded and opened his mouth to be gagged. Hannibal got back on his knees, swallowing Will’s cock. Will’s head hit the wall again. He fisted his hands in Hannibal’s ridiculously soft hair. 

Hannibal cupped the back of Will’s thighs just under the soft globes of his ass. He tugged gently, encouraging Will to thrust and Will gave in easily. 

Will felt oddly helpless as he slid his cock in and out between Hannibal’s lips. He was still close to collapsing. 

He cried out when Hannibal twisted the plug around, nudging his sore prostate. He thrust harder into Hannibal’s mouth, panting through his nose as Hannibal gagged a little and rubbed his tongue on the underside of Will’s cock. 

His eyes clenched shut as he came, feeling Hannibal swallow every drop. His legs did give then, but Hannibal kept him standing. He stood up and pulled the pocket square out of Will's mouth to kiss him, letting Will taste himself. Will just wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, leaving Hannibal to fix their clothes. 

”Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered. 

”Anything for you, mano širdis,” Hannibal replied. 

Will leaned his forehead on Hannibal’s shoulder. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Will said: “I’m not actually sure how to get back.” 

Hannibal kissed his hair. “Worry not, I do. We also passed what looked to be a staff restroom so we can freshen up.” 

”Okay.” 

This time, Hannibal did the leading, hand around Will’s. Given that the plug was still inside him, walking was still as—no, _more_ hellish than before because of the overstimulation. At least he didn’t need to worry so much about it slipping out of his stretched out hole thanks to his underwear helping to keep it in place. He squeezed Hannibal’s hand. 

”Do I have to keep this in me?” he asked. 

”Where else would put it and what its keeping inside you?” said Hannibal. 

”People have pockets for a reason, Dr. Lecter,” Will pointed out. “And we _are_ heading for a restroom.” 

”I’ll think on it,” Hannibal replied. 

”You,” said Will, determined, “are a terrible human being.” 

Hannibal laughed. 

The staff restroom was mercifully empty when they entered. Will washed the lube off his hands and jewelry and brushed dust off his jacket while Hannibal did the same. Will watched Hannibal’s sex mussed hair return to its usual neat style with a pout. Hannibal fixed Will’s dislodged clip, as well. After one last check to make sure they were presentable, they went back to the Banquet Hall. Will kept an ear out for Penelope but she must have headed further in. He hoped she was having as much fun as Will had. 

The plug was still torturing him. He knew what he had to say to make this end, to get Hannibal to take it out if he really wanted him to, but that was just the thing, wasn’t it? It felt like hell, but he couldn’t actually say he minded. He wanted to prove he could handle it and it hadn’t crossed the threshold to actual pain, yet, so…

The plug stayed.

No one seemed to notice their re-entrance. Hannibal made for the auction stage. They arrived just as a man was announcing something about rare chocolates. 

”What fortuitous timing,” Hannibal mused, tucking Will’s hand into the crook of his elbow. “We can head back after this, darling.” 

”Thank God,” Will muttered and slumped against Hannibal. His lashes fluttered as he bit back a yawn. Not even the plug could keep him awake. 

He had to figure out a way to get Hannibal back for this. 

  


=¤=

It was their final day in Paris and they were just relaxing in the apartment after getting back from a final visit with Hannibal’s art teacher and lunch out. Will was on the couch, slumped over the back to watch Hannibal assembling ingredients for an afternoon snack though it was barely past 1 p.m. 

That said, Will was munching on a bar of Fortunato No.4 after briefly amusing himself with the story behind it on the piece of paper that came with the bars. He hated to admit it, but he appreciated Hannibal sticking around to get it. It was good. He popped the last bit of chocolate into his mouth and squinted in the direction of the fridge where the other bars were. 

”Darling, could you join me?” said Hannibal. “I'd like to teach you something.” 

Will came over, sucking left over chocolate off his fingers. He ran his eyes over the counter, finding flour, citrus, cognac and a few other things. He tilted his head. “What’s happening here?” 

”I want to teach you to make Crêpes Suzette,” Hannibal explained. “Are you willing?” 

Will shivered a little at the reminder of the previous night, but shoved it away. “Define ‘teach', are you gonna be helping me or are you just gonna tell me what to do?” 

”The first,” Hannibal answered. “Have you ever tried to flambé something?” 

”You’re definitely doing that part,” said Will. 

”I will take that as a ‘no'. Shall we begin?” 

Hannibal had Will put the batter together, saying it was fine if he was imprecise since crepes were rather forgiving. It was his first time browning butter (he hadn’t even known that was a thing before this moment) and was glad Hannibal was watching over his shoulder once he’d been informed that it was possible to burn it. Why he’d first thought it couldn’t, he wasn’t sure. 

While the batter spent a couple hours in the fridge, they played some chess (Will had only ever managed to beat Hannibal thrice) and prepared the components of the sauce. 

They made the crepes side by side so Will could see how to spread the batter, determine if it was time to flip and _how_ to flip, though he did have to resort to little spatulas to help himself out. 

Will again tried to back out when Hannibal said it was time to set things on fire, but Hannibal wouldn’t let him. There was only one slightly larger pan on the stove now and Hannibal had trapped Will right in front of it by hugging him from behind. 

”There’s nothing to be afraid of, mon chéri,” said Hannibal. 

”Shush, I’m saying goodbye to my eyebrows,” Will snarked, folding a crepe into fourths before putting it aside and starting on the next. 

”They won’t be going anywhere,” Hannibal promised. 

”Says you,” Will muttered. 

Hannibal chuckled, arms tightening around Will’s waist. “Don’t you trust me, darling?” 

_With everything,_ he thought. “In this moment?” he said instead. 

”There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Hannibal repeated as Will finished folding the last crepe. Hannibal gave instructions on what to do next and Will obeyed, paying close attention to Hannibal telling him when he’d added enough of whatever to the pan. He put four of the crepes in once everything was “married together" as Hannibal said. He swirled them around and tensed when Hannibal reached for the prepared cognac. 

”Relax, my dear,” Hannibal advised, putting his other hand over Will’s on the handle of the pan. 

”You’re so lucky I like you,” said Will. “I would’ve decked you ages ago otherwise.” 

”Oh, mano širdis, I promise you I’m very aware of how lucky I am to hold even some small measure of your affection,” Hannibal replied. 

Will determined that it would be better not to respond to that. 

”God, I’ve faced down serial killers, why is this freaking me out so much?” Will grumbled. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way, not a request for psychoanalysis.” 

”I'll keep my thoughts to myself then,” said Hannibal. “Are you ready?” 

”As much as I’ll ever be.” 

He felt Hannibal nod on his shoulder then he guided Will into taking the pan off the heat. He poured the cognac in, upped the flame on the burner, tilted the pan—

Will jerked against Hannibal’s chest when the flames went up. There was a brief flare then they settled down to barely flickering above the lip of the pan. He resumed swirling everything around as directed, listening to the low sizzle. The fire died down quicker than Will expected. Soon, the crepes looked normal again. 

”That wasn’t so bad,” Will sighed. 

”I can feel your heart racing,” Hannibal commented, amused as he kissed Will’s neck. 

”That’d be the adrenalin, Doc,” Will drawled. 

Hannibal gave him another kiss. “You did well. Now you need to plate this so you can make another for me—this time you will do it on your own.” 

”What?” 

”You’ll do brilliantly,” said Hannibal, drawing away from Will. 

”Where exactly is all this faith coming from?” Will demanded. 

”I trust you darling.” 

_Not enough_ , Will thought. _Not completely._ But that was fine for now. One way or another Hannibal would realize Will could keep a secret. 

And if part of that process involved flambé, then Will would figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, some IRL stuff has come up (nothing too serious but not something I wanna divulge) and I won't be able to update until next week. I promise I will return to you all, but until then, stay safe and happy!!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM FINALLY BACK HERE IS A DOUBLE UPDATE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE WAIT.
> 
> There is some fucking around with with actual places in this, so if you've ever been to or happen to live in the mentioned locations and find what I'm writing to be wholly inaccurate, please just forgive me and blame the fact that this is what I need it to look like for plot. I'm sorry.
> 
> Related to that are the crabs: to my (very limited) knowledge crabs aren't big fans of cold water, so they shouldn't be here, probably, but........plot/theme/whatever, I wanted them in the story. Once again, I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, quick WARNING, there's some (badly written) religion based homophobia in this chapter. Read with caution if you're triggered by such things.
> 
> I hope this won't detract from your enjoyment of these new chapters!!

Lady Luck had allowed them a ship down to Italy. Toulon to Civitavecchia with day long stops in Villefranche-sur-Mer and La Spezia, according to Hannibal. Technically, they could get off at La Spezia and head directly to Florence, but Hannibal said they should have the full experience (that didn’t make nearly as much sense as he must have thought, but Will asked no further questions). The inside of the ship was done in white, beige and green, likely emulating an island, and was kept nicely warm.

Hannibal got them a suite, of course, which had it’s own private balcony off the port side, far over the water. The room was done in the same warm, inviting colors as the rest of the ship, though the couches weren’t as comfortable as they looked. The bed, however, was _extremely_ comfy. There was a hot tub in the bedroom. Will didn’t know what to make of that. 

Hannibal rattled off the various amenities of the ship while Will stripped the bed for the sheets Hannibal had brought. There was an indoor flower garden and an ice skating rink: both interesting for different reasons. Someone (he had only a vague memory of a girl with pink hair, probably not even twenty) had taught him how to ice skate as a kid and, though it had been a _while_ ago, he offered to teach Hannibal when he found out that he, to Will's unexaggerated shock, didn’t know how. Hannibal agreed. 

They’d do it tomorrow. For the moment, they just relaxed in their suite and Will tried not to think too much. 

  


=¤=

The skating went well. It had taken Will a minute to remember things, but the movements came back to him easily. Hannibal needed only fifteen minutes to be able to skate, turn and stop without help which was to be expected seeing as it was _Hannibal_ but still annoying. 

He didn’t even have the decency to fall just once like a normal person or scrabble for the railings. Not that Will did either of those things while remembering how to move. 

(He only desperately grabbed the railing the one time and not once did he fall.) 

There weren’t too many people so Will could move with a decent amount of speed if he wished. He gave himself a quick workout, avoiding the little families clustered near the entrances, not wanting to bowl over any wandering children. He went back to Hannibal, breathing heavily, and found him with two others, chatting idly in what Will realized was Lithuanian as he got closer. He stopped next to Hannibal who automatically wrapped an arm around him. 

”My lover, Will Graham,” Hannibal explained. 

”Hi,” said Will. The two were a man and a woman, a long time couple or married, Will couldn’t quite tell with their hands gloved. Both were light haired and dark eyed, the man had a thick scar going down his left cheek. The woman introduced herself as Gabija and her husband as Lukas, Will reeling a little from hearing Hannibal’s accent from someone else's mouth. 

”It's been quite a while since we could speak to someone from our motherland,” said Gabija. “It’s rather nice to hear the language from someone else, isn’t it?” he added for her husband. Lukas nodded. 

”Its been some time for me, as well,” said Hannibal. “Various things have kept me from Lithuania.” 

Gabija nodded in understanding. “It’s much the same for us. Have you been enjoying the trip?” 

”I like the heated floors,” Will responded, mind on something else. 

”And yet we are at ice rink,” Hannibal mused. 

”A sacrifice for education.” 

”Of course, mano širdis.” 

Gabija laughed and Lukas smiled, uneven. His eyes were fixed on her, they’d hardly wavered throughout the conversation. 

”Would you mind terribly if we all ate together?” Gabija asked. 

Will shrugged and glanced at Hannibal. “Sure.” 

”Marvelous.” 

  


=¤=

After dinner, as the ship was getting ready to move to the next port, Will stepped onto the main deck in a thick coat. He’d told Hannibal he was going on a walk, turning down Hannibal’s offer of company. Few people had the same idea to go out into such a cold night. 

There was something oddly homey about the cold. It had been a bit warm in Jack’s office the day he’d met Hannibal, but after he had stormed out of the office and the building to get away from everyone, it had felt unseasonably cold. 

He leaned against the rails, looking out at the dark waters and starry skies. His mind stayed on his lover. He wondered if, maybe, he was stalling. 

It never left him, that…not fear, not really, but maybe worry about Hannibal’s reaction to Will knowing. It lurked in the corners and crevasses of his mind, so much deadlier than the killers that usually dwelled in those spaces. He didn’t think Hannibal would kill him, but…

Will loved him. With every bit of him, he adored Hannibal Lecter. 

He was sure— _mostly_ sure that Hannibal felt the same. The almost-obsession he caught sometimes in Hannibal’s eyes was proof, but there was that tiny, lingering doubt that wasn’t as easily banished as those killers. 

He sighed. Maybe blurting it out would be the best idea after all. 

”Will.” 

Will straightened up and looked to the side. Gabija was there, even more bundled up than Will was, complete with ear warmers. “It’s a very cold night.” 

”It is,” Will agreed. “Is Lukas with you?” 

”He is somewhere,” Gabija answered. “And your Hannibal?” 

The use of ‘your' made Will smile. “I wanted to take a walk alone.” 

”Oh, my, am I disturbing you?” 

Will shook his head. “No, it’s all right, I’m not having much luck thinking, anyway.” 

”Would you like help or a distraction?” Gabija asked. 

Will thought about it. “I…wouldn’t mind some help.” 

”Tell me, then,” she said. “I swear to keep all your secrets.” 

”Secrets,” Will repeated, gaze returning to the horizon. This probably wasn’t a good idea, but if asked someone who’d been in his head for the last few weeks, they’d say he hadn’t had a single good idea in a _while_. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Hannibal has one. Nothing bad, to me at least, maybe to some people"— _definitely_ to _most_ people—”and I know about it, but he doesn’t know I know. I’m…worried about how to tell him.” 

Gabija laughed before covering her mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry, I promise I was not laughing at _you_.”

Will nodded for her to explain. 

She took a moment to calm herself, though when she spoke she was still smiling. “My Lukas stalked me.” 

Will blinked, but didn’t react beyond that. Gabija's smile widened, pleased. 

”For some months, I believe,” she continued, “though I only noticed him following me for the last two. He was never awful, only ever watching me. I was frightened at first, but it went away quickly. Foolish, perhaps, but it happened. I thought of him like a guardian angel. And I found I wasn’t entirely wrong to think so. 

”An ex-lover attacked me in my home while I was alone and he saved me, pretending he had been a passerby who had heard me scream. It gave me an excuse to spend time with him and for us to have a relationship. 

”I didn’t tell him I knew of his watching until years later, when we were engaged and I was so very in love with him that it nearly hurt. 

”He panicked and nearly called the wedding off, but I calmed him and convinced him all was well and that I loved him _because_ of his…habits, shall we say, and not in spite of them. That I, honestly, rather enjoyed his watching. 

”And now here we are. Years and years later.” She gave a fleeting touch to Will’s shoulder. “Do you see yourself in my story?” 

Will hummed. 

”There will never be a better time to say things than immediately, waiting only makes things worse,” said Gabija. “All will be well.” 

”You sound very sure of that,” Will mumbled. 

Gabija laughed again. “I believe in love. I heard what your Hannibal calls you.” 

”You’re gonna have to get specific,” said Will. “He calls me a lot of things.” 

”I’ve noticed,” Gabija said. “I was referring to the Lithuanian one.” 

Will hummed again. “I don’t actually know what that one means. He says it a lot, but I’ve never asked him to translate.” 

Gabija sighed. “Men.” 

Will grinned. “Tell me?” 

The smile that appeared on Gabija’s face was both warm and teasing. “He calls you his heart.” 

Ah. 

_Ah._

Gabija gave his shoulder another quick touch as he flushed. “Have I helped you, Will?” 

Will nodded, not looking up from his hands gripping the rails like he’d die if he let go. 

Silence reigned until Will spoke again, “Does he still watch you?” 

”Yes,” she said with so much affection Will’s teeth ached like he’d just gotten a mouthful of sugar. “I’ve given him leave to watch as much as he pleases. I’ve grown so familiar with his gaze I could find him from that feeling alone. He’s directly across the deck from us.” 

Will checked, finding Lukas right where she said he would be, watching Gabija with that same intense focus as earlier. “Should I be concerned?” 

She shook her head. “He just likes to watch. He never truly minds what I’m doing or who I’m with, unless they pose a danger to me. Should _I_ be concerned?” 

Will bit back a smile. “Nope.” 

”Well, I believe I’ve done what I must,” Gabija said. “Good night, Will.” 

”Good night. To both of you.” 

Will watched her return below deck, Lukas following and gradually increasing his pace until Gabija reached back for him without turning around and he slipped his hand into hers. They disappeared. 

Will leaned his elbows on the railing. And smiled. 

_Mano širdis._

He wasn’t worried anymore. 

  


=¤=

Will was woken early (as in a couple hours before dawn) the next morning because Hannibal had scheduled a fishing trip for them. It was one of the offerings of the ship: guests could rent a boat and a small crew would take them out as well as prepare and serve whatever they caught. 

Not that they'd be able to do the latter with Hannibal around. 

The crew seemed _relieved_ that Will knew what he was doing. They told the two of them stories about previous passengers they’d taken to fish: the ones who knew nothing, expected everything, refused to take expert advice and got pissed when things went terribly. Despite Will’s empathic abilities and his job revolving around how humans work, he would never be able to understand those people. 

They went ashore as the clock crept towards noon, one of the cooks still extolling Hannibal’s skill with a knife. Will had to hide a laugh. 

They chose a restaurant that had been recommended by one of the crew for lunch, then wandered down the coast, Will’s arm hooked around Hannibal’s. The early afternoon sun was hidden away by grey clouds releasing snow onto the land below. Hannibal pulled Will’s hood up, then his own.

”So, what now, hm?” Will asked, shoes sinking onto the sand while Hannibal stayed on the gravel path beside him. 

”Shall we take a walk to settle our stomachs?” said Hannibal. “Or would you like to visit the Technical Naval Museum?” 

”Both, in that order,” said Will. “To the trees over there?” 

Hannibal smiled and adjusted their course, joining Will in the sand. “Have you ever been to a beach in winter?” Will said. 

”Once or twice,” Hannibal answered. “I assume you’ve seen this grey scene several times now.” 

”I have,” Will said. “The sight doesn’t really get old, I’ve been to a beach more often in winter than summer, I think.” 

”Your father’s job?” 

”Mm-hm,” Will hummed and pulled Hannibal to a stop as a crab crossed their path. It stopped right in front of them and Will huffed as he gently prodded it with his foot to get it moving again. 

”We could’ve eaten him,” said Hannibal. 

Will rolled his eyes and resumed their walking. “We’ve had enough shellfish.” 

”That sounds like a complaint,” said Hannibal. 

”I swear it’s not.” 

They reached the trees and Will let go of Hannibal to go a bit ahead, knowing Hannibal wouldn’t stray too far behind. It didn’t take long to feel entirely separate from the rest of civilization, the cold preventing most people from wandering and the wind providing a buffer of sound. Will knew there were plenty of people in the shops behind the trees, but there were none that he could see. 

Will wrinkled his nose as he rounded a tree to find broken beer bottles at its other side. “Some people.” 

”There are trash cans nearby,” said Hannibal. 

”In a bit,” Will said. He leaned against the opposite tree and pulled Hannibal close. “I’m cold.” 

”Are you?” Hannibal mused, sliding an arm around Will’s waist and leaning his other by the side of Will’s head. 

”Starting to feel warmer.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Are you?” 

Will grinned. He pressed their foreheads together. Hannibal still smelled like sandalwood, but not so much like his herb wall since he hadn’t been near it in a while. That iron/copper scent was still present. 

Sandalwood and blood. 

His beloved monster. 

Will kissed him, a bit desperately, a bit needily. Everything would be fine, but he needed this before entering his monster's den. 

If Hannibal was surprised by Will’s ferocity, it didn’t show. He just kissed Will back with the same hunger, hauling Will in as close as he could. 

Will pulled away, panting, keeping their foreheads together. The heaving of Hannibal’s breaths tasted _sweet_.

”Hannibal,” said Will. 

”Yes?” 

Could Hannibal hear the thumping of Will’s heart? “Can I ask you something?” 

”Anything, darling.” 

Will cupped Hannibal’s cheek, a reversal of how this usually happened, though Hannibal easily enough turned into the touch and breathed in like he could scent Will through the leather and wool of his glove. 

”What has you curious, my dear?” asked Hannibal. 

Will’s hands were sweating. He licked his lips, tasting Hannibal on them. “It’s about the Ches—"

Hannibal was yanked away from him. A large bearded man threw him to another tree and before Will could do anything about it, another man—just as heavy set, but bald and clean shaven with a tattoo on his cheek—kept Will pinned. 

”Hey!” 

The tattooed man sneered and spat at Will’s chest. “How dare you bring your un-Godly filth to our home?” 

Will resisted the urge to spit back. He threw a glance at Hannibal who would have looked perfectly composed if not for what was burning in his eyes. Hannibal met his gaze and shook his head slightly. Will scowled, but relented. If Hannibal thought he could handle this, Will wouldn’t get in his way. 

At least, not until he had to. 

”Forcing the good people of this city to witness your insults to Him,” Beardy growled inches from Hannibal’s face. 

”To my knowledge, He loves and accepts all His children,” said Hannibal and Will wondered why he was letting Hannibal handle things. 

Tattoo turned his head to spit at Hannibal’s feet. Will was almost impressed by his projectile ability. At least until Tattoo pulled something out of his pocket and flicked open a knife. “Maybe you can ask St. Peter before he sends you to the Hell you belong in.” 

_Well, then._

Will met Hannibal’s eyes again and twitched his hands upwards. Hannibal tipped his head. Will smiled. 

In a flash, Will had his hands on Tattoo's wrists, forcing them away from him and squeezing until the knife fell into the sand at their feet. He heard Hannibal dealing with Beardy over the sounds of both men snarling more insults and curses. 

Will held Tattoo's arms out to the sides and aimed a kick at the man’s crotch. He dodged, Will’s foot only landing on his inner thigh. He yanked his wrists out of Will’s hands, unbalancing him. 

Tattoo was faster than Will expected, his fist making contact with Will’s side before Will could block it. Will staggered, but avoided the next punch, sending one of his own. 

Tattoo grunted as Will nailed his shoulder. He slammed a booted foot against the side of Will’s knee and Will collapsed. Tattoo grinned. He took a step towards Will. 

Will didn’t let him take another. He got his feet under him and tackled Tattoo to the ground, his hood slipping off. Tattoo screamed when he landed—louder than Will thought necessary. Then, he saw the blood beginning to pool underneath Tattoo’s head. 

He’d landed on the broken beer bottles. 

In a fleeting moment of levity, Will thought of the importance of cleaning up litter. 

”You piece of shit!” Tattoo spat. “We are doing holy work, cleaning the Earth of filth! Both of you disgusting fuckers Will burn for the plague you’ve stained upon God’s good Earth—!”

Will punched him. He grit his teeth, drew his fist back and brought it down with all the force he could muster. Tattoo spat out blood from his split cheek, but didn’t stop talking. 

Despite the cold, something burned in Will’s chest. There wasn’t a single thought in his head but making Tattoo _shut **up**_.

So, he punched him again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Eventually Tattoo did shut up—Will didn’t stop. Tattoo’s face turned bloodied and bruised, nose smashed into nothing, tattoo framed in purple and red—Will didn’t stop. Will's knuckles ached under his gloves and the chest underneath him stopped moving—

Will didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted to tear his gloves off and feel warm blood on his hands, on his fingers, on his face. 

”Will.” 

Will froze. He could barely see through the mist of his panted breaths. Was he smiling? 

”He's dead, mano širdis,” said Hannibal. “You can stop.” 

”Oh.” 

Will took one last look at the man…the corpse below him. He maybe should have thought that through. Or stopped to think at all. 

”How did that feel?” asked Hannibal. 

Will flexed his fingers, looking at the bright blood on the grey leather. The metallic smell mixed with the sharp scent of snow and the salt of the sea. He felt fevered. 

He felt the blood rushing through every artery and vein lining his body. Felt the air filling his lungs and expanding his chest. Felt his heart beat-beat-beating too fast against his sternum. 

”Livening.” 

He looked up at Hannibal. He was surprised to find Beardy still alive, pinned on his front to a tree; one arm hanging limp, obviously dislocated; his other twisted behind him; kept silent by Hannibal’s free hand on his hairy jaw. Will tilted his head, breath gradually slowing. 

”What now?” he asked. 

Hannibal stared at him. He seemed to barely notice the way Beardy squirmed and thrashed. Beardy's nose flared as he breathed, eyes so wide it showed the whites all around his bouncing irises. They landed on his friend then glared daggers at Will. 

”You tell me, my dear,” said Hannibal. “I doubt it would be a good idea to leave a witness.” 

Will hummed and nodded. He looked around, finding Tattoo’s dropped knife. He stood to pick it up, checking it over. The handle was wood with delicate carvings, well cared for and with a beautifully sharp edge. He doubted that Tattoo had bought it himself. 

There was a ‘pop' accompanied by a muffled cry of pain. When he turned his attention back to his still living company, he saw both of Beardy’s arms were now hanging uselessly. Hannibal pulled Beardy’s mostly limp body away from the tree, keeping him tight to his own body with an arm around his chest. He was using Beardy’s beard to tilt his head back and bare his throat. 

Beardy’s terror warred with his anger. Will smiled. 

”Shall I?” Hannibal inquired as Will approached. “Or would you rather rehash that ‘livening' feeling?” 

Will considered it. Considered the knife that didn’t quite fit right in his hand because of his blood slick glove. Considered the man pissing himself in front of him even as he glowered. Considered the light in his monster's eyes: awe and fascination and something that burned too _dark_ to be appropriately called love. 

Will's smile grew. “I’ll do it.” 

Hannibal’s answering smile was all too soft for what was happening. Will loved it. 

He raised the knife, but Hannibal stopped him. “Don’t stand in front of him, darling, you’ll get blood all over yourself.” 

Will wrinkled his nose. He wouldn’t really _mind_ that, but he understood why Hannibal said it. 

He moved to stand beside Hannibal and raised the knife again. He double checked with Hannibal, finding Hannibal’s eyes already on him. He kissed him. This time, Hannibal _did_ stiffen in surprise before kissing him back. Will pulled away, still with a smile, and sliced open Beardy’s carotid. 

Hannibal dropped Beardy next to his friend. With his arms as they were, he could do nothing but gasp and twitch as he bled out. Once the arterial spray calmed, Will crouched down near him, careful to avoid the blood. Even dying, Beardy managed to spill hate onto Will with his eyes and a blood stained snarl. Will laughed. 

His eyes soon dulled and his rasping breaths stilled. In contrast, Will’s heart was racing as if reveling in the life it retained unlike the still forms before him. 

_Alive, alive, alive._

_Dead, dead, dead._

Ha saw himself reflected in the dead man’s eyes, crouched down and fascinated like a child examining a frog for the first time and finding it delightful, with Hannibal behind him and—

And his Ravenstag behind them both, standing glorious and triumphant. 

”We shouldn’t leave them here,” said Will. 

”No, we shouldn’t,” agreed Hannibal. He looked around and, belatedly, so did Will, wondering if anyone had seen them. He saw no one. 

Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder. “There should be a rocky area in that direction that submerges during the high tide. Shall we drop them there?” 

Will nodded. “What about the sand? We don’t exactly have buckets to get water to clean this with.” 

”Covering it with clean sand will have to do,” Hannibal said. 

Will nodded again and grabbed Hannibal’s hand to pull himself to his feet. He cleaned the knife as best he could and dropped it into a coat pocket. There were a few drops of blood on his sleeves, but most of it was on his gloves. He didn’t think they could be saved. 

They dragged the bodies a bit away to better cover up the dirty sand. Will picked up the broken bottles so no one else could get hurt on them, dropping the pieces on one of the men. 

Once the blood was as covered as they could manage, Will followed Hannibal to the rocky area, each of them dragging a body with them. 

The rocks were slick with algae, forcing them to be careful with where they put their feet. They found a somewhat hidden spot and weighed the bodies down with some rocks so they wouldn’t drift down the beach when the tide came in. Will nearly slipped, catching himself on a large piece of sun bleached driftwood before he could step on a crab passing between natural pools. 

”All right?” asked Hannibal, closing the men’s eyes. 

”Fine.” Will watched the crab change trajectory, heading now to the corpses. “Do crabs eat humans? I can’t remember.” 

”They do,” said Hannibal. “But they tend to prefer freshly dead prey.” 

”This guy doesn’t seem to mind,” Will said as the crab crawled over Tattoo. 

”No, he doesn’t.” 

Will looked at him. “Let’s go back to the ship? The museum will have to wait for a different day.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Take your gloves off, darling.” 

Will took them off, turning them inside out before putting them with the knife. The cold nipped at his fingers almost immediately. Hannibal took one of his own gloves off and slipped it onto Will, taking the uncovered one into his own. Will huffed. “Cheesy.” 

Hannibal smiled and kissed Will’s fingers. “Come.” 

As he always had and as he always would, Will followed. He glanced back once to find more crabs on the bodies. Unfortunate that they couldn't eat them, but at least they were being enjoyed by something. And maybe one day someone would eat those crabs in a bizarre circle. It was almost a shame that he didn’t know Tattoo and Beardy's real names. 

Their first kill together. 

He squeezed Hannibal’s hand. 

Hannibal glanced back at him. 

Will gave him a smile. 

And Hannibal gave him one back, teeth sharp and eyes burning.

"Beautiful."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS A DOUBLE UPDATE IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, YOU MIGHT WANNA GO BACK.
> 
> To the best of my shitty research skills, the below mentioned names and events are at least maybe possibly movie canon. If not, just accept this as my version of events.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!!

Will was riding a high the likes of which he’d never felt before. 

He kept playing with Hannibal’s fingers and stroking his knuckles. When he thought no one was looking, he would kiss Hannibal’s cheek. The warm bubbles weren’t so much popping as exploding in a brilliant shower of sparks, setting Will on fire and turning his blood into fast moving lava. 

He could see his mood taking over Hannibal, too. Or, more accurately, Hannibal letting himself be swept into Will’s current. Will didn’t know what he thought was going through Will’s head, but at least, he believed everything was all right. He believed there was nothing to fear from each other which was exactly what Will wanted which made more bubbles appear and explode—his cheer feeding Hannibal’s feeding Will’s in a loop Will never wanted to escape. 

It was time to talk about the Ripper. 

They got back onto the ship with none the wiser as to what they’d been up to and reached their room with no trouble. Will reluctantly let go of Hannibal to remove his coat and toss it over the back of the couch along with Hannibal’s glove, then he was in Hannibal’s arms after he’d removed his own outerwear. 

Hannibal laughed and cupped Will’s cheeks. “You’re in such a good mood,” he remarked. “It’s a wonderful look on you.” 

”It’s all thanks to you,” said Will. 

”I doubt that.” 

”Doubt it all you want,” Will said with a shrug, “it’s still the truth.” 

Will didn’t let him say anything in reply. He stole his words away with a kiss, arms going tight around Hannibal and licking at his lips. Hannibal tugged off his remaining glove and ran his fingers through Will’s hair and down his back. 

He gripped Will’s hips, brushing against the bruises there from last night (or some other night, who knew, really?), squeezing once before pushing Will gently away. “We need to have a conversation.” 

To Hannibal’s obvious surprise, Will smiled. “I know.” 

Will left Hannibal standing there to go to the two armchairs bracketing the wall mounted TV. He moved them to face each other instead being turned slightly towards the TV and dropped down onto one of them. 

He looked to Hannibal, still standing by the door and threw him another smile. “It's early, but it _is_ Tuesday. How long are you gonna keep me waiting, Dr. Lecter?” 

Hannibal tipped his head, eyes bright with good humor. “My apologies, I hadn’t meant to.” 

He crossed the room to take his seat across from Will and Will propped his chin on his hand, eyes on his lover. 

”How would you like to begin?” asked Hannibal. 

Will waved a hand towards him. Hannibal nodded. “The last time you killed someone you called it the ugliest thing in the world despite the situational necessity of it, correct?” 

Will nodded, scruff scraping against his palm. He cast his mind back to that back hospital corridor, to running after Stammets and the comatose little girl, to pulling out his gun as Stammets pulled out his. 

One shot, that time. No need to empty the magazine. 

He’d felt it then, too. That full body _awareness_ and _revelry_ of life. At that moment, it had disgusted him, shamed him. _That_ was what had made him lose both sleep and appetite. 

He could remember feeling those things, but he couldn’t remember what it _felt_ like. The only thing that felt real was that rush. 

He focused back on Hannibal who had been patiently waiting while Will reminisced. Hannibal, knowing he again had Will's attention, crossed his legs and continued: “Yet, now, after killing two men when you could just as easily have left them beaten but alive, you say it feels ‘livening'. Tell me, what has changed?” 

Will shrugged. “Not much, really. My viewpoint, I guess.” 

”Elaborate.” 

Will shivered. Gently said or not, an order was an order and Will would obey. 

”It happened with Stammets, too,” said Will. “That feeling of being so _alive_. Even with Hobbs. But both those times, I felt bad about feeling that way. I called that feeling ugly. It made nauseous.” 

”But not now,” Hannibal assumed. 

Will shook his head. “Not now.” 

”Why not?” 

”Because it feels good.” Will licked his lips. “And I know it’s gonna get me something even better.” 

Hannibal tilted his head, uncrossing his legs. “And what is that?” 

Will tapped his fingers on his cheek, thinking. _What answer should I give?_

Will stood and walked over to straddle Hannibal’s lap. “The Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Hannibal slid his hands up Will’s thighs. “Such an obsession with him.” 

Will just smiled. 

”How exactly will accepting the power you feel get you your Ripper?” said Hannibal. 

”The Silvestri case had me thinking maybe he could do with an apprentice of sorts, Dr. Lecter,” Will replied. 

Hannibal didn’t seem to notice the way his grip on Will’s hips went tight. His eyes burned. “You want to kill with him?” 

”Doesn’t it sound like fun?” Will said. 

”What is it that makes you so confident he will have you?” asked Hannibal. 

"He knows me."

"What makes you so confident he knows you?"

"It's not exactly a secret that Jack brought me in for the Ripper." Will kissed his cheek. “With every cell of body, I’m sure I’m as in his head as he is in mine.” 

”What an honor you’ve given him.” Hannibal stood up, carrying Will with only a slight heave. 

”He’s earned it.” Will said and slid shoes off. 

”How did he do that?” said Hannibal as they entered the bedroom. 

”By being so amazing.” Will kept his arms and legs around Hannibal as he was laid down on the bed. 

”Is that so?” Hannibal asked. Will heard his shoes fall to he rug. 

”Mm-hm.” Will tilted his head to give Hannibal more room to kiss his neck while he undid the buttons of Will’s shirt. “I’m not an artist, but I have eyes. I can see how skilled he is, how hard he works on his tableaux above that talent. It’s not exactly easy to get away with murder. Especially not as cleanly as he can.” 

Hannibal moved on to Will’s pants, shoving them down enough for access. “You find him so impressive.” 

”Isn’t he— _ah!_ ”

Hannibal squeezed Will's balls and pulled on his cock. Will trembled and clawed at Hannibal’s clothed shoulders. 

”God, Hannibal.” 

”You find it admirable?” said Hannibal, his calm a contrast to Will’s gasping and squirming. “His ability to elude your grasp.” 

”I find admirable—his ability to elude the _FBI's_ grasp,” Will corrected, arching into Hannibal’s touch and digging his nails into Hannibal’s skin. “He won’t escape mine.” 

Hannibal got Will’s pants and underwear off, Will shucking his shirt off, too. Will pulled Hannibal back up, kissing him and grinding their hips together. There was something wonderful about Hannibal still being clothed while Will wore nothing, but it’d be even better once they were both naked. He yanked on Hannibal’s buttons. 

Hannibal undid just enough of them to tug his shirt off over his head and grabbed the lube on the nightstand. Once his fingers were covered in slick, he slipped two inside Will, finding his prostate almost immediately. 

_”Hannibal!”_

”Beautiful,” Hannibal murmured. “Do you think the Ripper beautiful, darling?” 

”Yes,” Will moaned, riding Hannibal’s fingers. “He’s beautiful, everything he does is beautiful.” 

”Everything? What of his trophies? Have you figured out what he does with them yet?” 

Will fisted his hands in blood red Egyptian cotton. “He eats them.” 

Hannibal shuddered above him, the fingers of the hand on Will’s hip digging into old bruises, sending a sweet kind of pain zipping through Will’s nerves. 

Will smiled. Hannibal just wanted to be seen. Will could give him that. He hooked a leg around Hannibal’s hips and slid a hand into hair to get Hannibal’s lips back on his neck. He moaned happily at the resulting licks and sucks and bites. 

”Fill me, please,” he begged. “Please, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal pulled his fingers out and got his pants off without stopping in his quest to add more bruises to the purple necklace around Will’s throat. 

Hannibal went slowly, teasing. Popping the bulbous head in, then thrusting gently, going just a tiny bit deeper each time. Will whined and squirmed, stopped from doing any more than that by a hand on his hip. 

”You think the Ripper is a cannibal?” Hannibal whispered. 

”I don’t _think_ anything,” said Will. “I _know_ he is. Just like I know he has medical experience and is fa—God, Hannibal, more, _please_ —um…fairly wealthy and well-cultured—he's an amazing chef, too.” 

Hannibal chuckled and used his tongue to press on Will’s hickeys. “That sounds awfully familiar, caro mio. Is that caused _by_ or the cause _of_ your crossed wires?” 

”How crossed are they really,” said Will, voice nearly drowned out by the rushing of blood in his ears, “if the person I’m talking about and the person on top of me are one and the same?” 

Hannibal froze, cock halfway inside Will. Will stilled himself despite the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the need to get rest of Hannibal’s cock in. 

The lips on his neck were slowly replaced by a hand. Will didn’t mind. He adored the threat as much as he adored the affection. 

”Say it,” Will begged. “Please. Please, say it.” 

Hannibal rose up, just enough for them to lock eyes. Will didn’t look away. He hid nothing in the hope that Hannibal wouldn’t either. 

”Please.” 

Hannibal touched their foreheads together, applying just a bit more pressure to Will’s throat. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Will’s lips. 

”Yes.” He stroked Will’s hip. “I’m your Ripper, mano širdis." 

Will trembled. Tears pricked his eyes. He smiled. “I see you.” 

”You do,” said Hannibal, sounding almost awed. 

”I love you.” 

Hannibal shook. His hand had gone even tighter on Will’s throat. Will made no mention of it. 

”You do?” 

Will cupped Hannibal’s face. “I love you. I love you because you’re Hannibal Lecter and I love you because you’re the Chesapeake Ripper. _I love you._ ”

_”Will."_

A tongue filled Will’s mouth as the rest of Hannibal’s cock slammed into Will’s hole. Will’s shouts were swallowed by Hannibal’s lips. Will dug his nails into Hannibal’s nape, but his hands were yanked away and pinned over his head. 

”Hannibal, Hannibal, my Ripper, my lover…”

"My Will.” 

”Don’t hold back,” Will pleaded. “Stop holding back, please, Hannibal, I need you to _fuck_ me.” 

”I’ll give you anything you wish, my love,” Hannibal promised. He fucked into Will’s hole, hips slapping, wet and harsh, against Will’s ass. His hands were going tighter and tighter around Will’s wrists. 

Hannibal licked into Will’s open, moaning mouth and Will sucked on his tongue with a pleased sound before Hannibal pulled away. Will got his legs up, digging his heels into Hannibal’s back. He tried to meet Hannibal’s thrusts, but his body didn’t want to cooperate. 

_”Hannibal.”_

”You’re mine, Will Graham,” Hannibal growled. “Mine.” 

”Yes,” Will moaned. “Yes, yes, all yours, only yours.” 

_”Will.”_ Hannibal adjusted his stance a little so he was pummeling Will’s prostate, abusing the little bundle of nerves. 

”I love you, I love you, I love you,” Will chanted between sharp cries. His wrists were really starting to hurt. Will was close. So close. 

Teeth scraped down Will’s throat, a tongue licked along his collarbones, lips trailed down to wrap around a nipple, biting so hard Will screamed and writhed. His other nipple was given the same attention and tears spilled out of Will’s eyes. 

”Hannibal,” he whimpered. “You know I’d do anything for you, right? I want to kill with you. I’ve wanted to for—for _so_ long now. Want you to show me. Like when—when we cooked together. Will you? Pre-pretty please?” 

Hannibal’s shuddered, hips stuttering. “I’ll teach you—how to butcher swine.” 

Will clenched. “Yes. _Yes._ Did you—did you feed me Ingram?” 

Hannibal bit his nipple again. “Two days after he dared lay a hand on you. The porchetta I served you for dinner with bourbon glazed baby carrots.” 

Will shivered, gasping. “Thank you. Thank you. He was delicious.” 

”Mano meilė. Tu mane sutriuškinai.” 

Will shouted wordlessly as Hannibal bit the junction between his neck and shoulder, teeth digging in. Will felt skin split under the assault and babbled out approval as he came, semen splashing between their sweaty stomachs. 

Hannibal moaned and licked at Will’s lightly bleeding neck. His hips never slowed, instead going even harder, deeper, faster. Will tried to shift his hands, wanting to touch, but Hannibal’s grip hadn’t slackened in the least. 

”My Will, my heart, my love.” 

Hannibal drove his cock in deep one last time. Will sighed at the warmth flooding his insides and the feel of a twitching, jerking cock. He kissed Hannibal’s cheek. He’d aimed for his lips, but his neck wasn’t feeling cooperative. 

Hannibal separated himself from Will and lay next to him as they calmed. Will winced as he brought his arms down. 

”You’ve done something to my wrist,” Will commented. 

Hannibal checked Will’s already purpling wrists, watching Will’s reactions. “Only bruises darling, I’ll ice them in a moment.” 

Will should do that himself, but if he managed to even _sit up_ in the next half hour he’d call it a miracle, so he’d leave it to Hannibal. “Okay.” 

”How long have you known?” Hannibal asked, propped up on an elbow and idly playing with the come on Will’s stomach. 

”I mentioned the Silvestri case for a reason,” said Will. 

”So long…” Hannibal mused. “Yet you’ve said nothing to no one.” 

”And I never will,” Will replied. “You’re not allowed to leave me, Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “I will keep that in mind.” 

Will couldn’t help a smile of his own. “I wanna touch you, but my wrists kind of hurt a lot.” 

”Let me do something about that.” Hannibal got up. Still naked and sex stained, he grabbed the old timey leather medicine bag he’d packed ‘just in case' and a pair of towelettes which he piled ice from the champagne bucket onto. “Should I apologize?” 

”Nope,” said Will, popping the ‘p'. “It felt good and we _both_ enjoy seeing your marks on me.” 

”That we do,” Hannibal agreed. He sat down by Will’s hips, eyes on his neck and Will managed to twitch his head to the side enough to let him see the bite better. “Lovely.” 

”Might not be the best of ideas to walk around with this on display, though,” Will said, grimacing as his wrists were iced. 

”Florence and Venice will be cold enough to justify scarves,” said Hannibal. “I think it will scar.” 

”I don’t mind that.” 

Hannibal smiled. What did it say that Will wished there was still some of his blood on those slightly crooked teeth? 

Hannibal cleaned up Will’s neck, making sure he was no longer bleeding and didn’t need stitches. 

”You’ll let me, won’t you?” Will asked while Hannibal was distracted by wiping off Will’s stomach. 

”Pardon?” 

”Kill with you,” said Will. Hannibal stilled. “Right?” 

Hannibal kissed him, soft and slow, and Will’s heart jumped at the faint taste of iron. “I believe I’ve already answered this question. I told you I would teach you how to butcher swine.” 

”Soon?” 

”As soon as you’d like.” 

Will’s heart jumped again. “I love you.” 

Hannibal cupped his cheek. Warm and familiar and perfect. “And I love you. Je t'aime. Aishiteru. Te amo. Wo ai ni. Ich liebe dich. Saranghae. Aš tave myliu. I love you, darling.” 

”Sap,” Will teased. 

Hannibal laughed. “Shall we have dinner here?” 

Will frowned (not a pout, absolutely not). “I was hoping to eat with Gabija and Lukas one more time.” 

”We can have lunch with them tomorrow before parting ways,” Hannibal offered and just like that Will’s smile returned. 

”Sounds like a plan.”

  


=¤=

While heading back to their room after their final breakfast on the ship, Will caught something out of the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore the familiar header of the TattleCrime website glowing on a teenager's tablet, but he couldn’t help glancing at the bold, black letters titling Freddie’s latest article. 

_Killer vs Killer: The Bloody Baron and The Chesapeake Ripper._

Will doubled back to the kids—a boy and a younger girl, related, most likely siblings, very close—who were talking about the article. “Sorry,” he said, “could I take a look at that for a sec?” 

”Sure, man,” the older boy said, tilting the tablet in Will’s direction. Will quickly skimmed through it, Hannibal over his shoulder. 

Carlton’s killer, the one Jack had attempted to cancel Will’s vacation over and Freddie had decided to dub ‘the Bloody Baron', had struck again. 

Annalise Ferns was their second victim, a young woman in her first year of college who lived with her parents and three younger siblings. She’d been studying biochemistry and fancied herself a bit of a detective in her free time. In her bedroom, she’d had a corkboard covered in publicized details and personal theories on the Chesapeake Ripper. 

That was the room she’d been found in by her parents after they’d returned from dinner out. Freddie had pictures. God only knew how she’d gotten them. 

Ferns was on a chair in the middle of her bedroom, torso slashed open with her organs ripped out and thrown, not all over the place, but at the corkboard. Bloody paper was scattered around the room and the corkboard had been yanked off the wall and flung to the other wall to lay in pieces on the floor. 

In the slightly discolored place the board had been were the crudely carved words: _What’s so great about the Ripper?_ , punctuated by Ferns' heart pinned to the wall with one of the Ferns family’s own kitchen knives. 

”Crazy stuff, huh?” the boy asked. 

”Definitely,” said Will, shoving clenched fists into his pockets. 

”Sure hope you guys don’t live around there,” the kid continued. “We’re over in Cali.” 

”California is not without it’s own dangers,” said Hannibal, putting a hand on Will’s back. “Thank you for letting us look. Stay safe.” 

”You, too!” the girl chirped, waving. Will nodded and let himself be led away by the hand on his back. He was scowling and he knew it, but he didn’t care enough to change expressions. 

They got to their suite, but Will couldn’t stop moving. He paced around the edges of the room, taking slow breaths, clenching and unclenching his hands. Hannibal said nothing, just sat on one of the armchairs from last night. 

After another minute of restless pacing, Will joined him. 

”You knew reading that article would upset you,” said Hannibal. 

It wasn’t a question, but Will answered anyway. “Yes.” 

”In that case, why read it?” 

”I saw the title,” Will defended. 

”You could have ignored it,” Hannibal said. 

”You know why I couldn’t.” 

”Do I?” 

Will raised a brow at him. Hannibal smiled. He stood and knelt in front of Will, taking his hands into his own on Will’s knee. 

”Does that case worry you?” asked Hannibal. 

Will rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about—” Will floundered for a moment then practically snarled upon realizing this whole discussion would go easier if he used the name Freddie had come up with “— _the Baron_. They’re too angry to last long, they’ll get caught with or without my help, they don’t _matter_.”

Hannibal stroked his thumbs over Will’s knuckles. “How do you think your Ripper will feel about this Baron's message?” 

Will pursed his lips. “I think there’s two ways he could see it.” 

Hannibal squeezed in a wordless prompt to continue. 

”There’s a possibility he might feel like retaliating,” Will began. “He’s proud after all, and there’s some ant daring to go crawling around his foot, making a nuisance of itself, why not kill it? But that same pride could just as easily _prevent_ him from doing something. It’s just an ant, right? Small and pitiful and worthless, why waste any energy on it and make it feel important?” 

The dark, hungry light in Hannibal’s eyes sent a shiver down Will’s spine right to his cock. 

”Which do you think him more likely to settle on?” 

”I think I’ll go with Option 2, Dr. Lecter,” said Will. 

”Why is that?” 

Will quirked a smile. “It’s the holidays, you know. I’m sure the Ripper has better things on his mind than a single ant.” 

”Tell me, what could do those things be?” Hannibal requested. 

Will pulled his hands out of Hannibal’s loose hold. “Well, there’s the fact we should probably be repacking our stuff by now if we wanna leave in time.” 

Hannibal chuckled and stood up, leaning over Will with his hands on the arms of the chair. “Understood, darling. In any case, as a Count, I outrank a Baron. I don't need to concern myself with them if I don't wish to.” 

”Fantastic reasoning, Dr. Lecter. I'll worry about them when we’re back home.” Will accepted a kiss before gently pushing at Hannibal’s chest to get to his own feet. 

”Good.” Hannibal picked up a blanket that had migrated from their bed to the couch. “If you get too distracted by this ant, I might actually have to do something about it.” 

”No need for that. Yet, at least,” said Will. 

”Do you anticipate needing it in the future?” Hannibal asked. 

”I don’t think so, but I don’t know.” Will grabbed his coat, looking down when something fell out. He picked up the knife from yesterday. There was a bit of dried blood on the handle, but it flicked open easily and the blade was clean. “I’m keeping this.” 

Hannibal looked over, still folding the blanket. “I can get you a better one.” 

Will huffed. “Yes, but this one has sentimental value. I’m keeping it.” 

Hannibal softened, the monster purring. “As you wish.” 

Will hid a smile as he put the switchblade back in the coat’s pocket. He’d left that new killer behind days and days ago, he refused to let them cast even the smallest shadow over his and Hannibal’s time together. 

_How many more lives would this knife take in their hands?_

Will couldn’t wait to find out. 

  


Will and Hannibal said a quick goodbye to Lukas and Gabija in Civitavecchia. They were heading south to Sicily while he and Hannibal were aimed north. They bid each other happy holidays and Hannibal told them to give him a call should they ever find themselves in the States, then they were rushing to catch their train to Florence. 

Will didn’t say anything, but Gabija had given him a little nudge during lunch and a quiet “I told you so.” Will had just smiled back and shifted his turtleneck to make sure everything was hidden. 

He and Hannibal spent the train ride talking about nothing, returning to their carefree cheer. There was a tense anticipation hanging in the air and Will felt overly aware of the knife in his pocket and his missing gloves which Hannibal had taken from him and disposed of who knew where and how. Had anyone found the bodies yet? What did everyone think? 

When would Hannibal show him how to butcher swine? 

Will shivered. Hannibal caught his eye and seemed to know exactly what was happening in his mind. He chuckled and kissed him, whispering a quiet promise of _soon_ before resuming his story about Jean in their school days. 

They arrived in Florence late in the afternoon. They dropped their things off in their apartment, then got some groceries for dinner, Will comparing the sunset of Florence to the sunsets of Paris and Baltimore. Similar, yet different, with Hannibal as an eternal constant. Perfect, each of them. 

The apartment was more modern than the last one. Lots of floor to ceiling windows and plush carpeting over heated floors. The bathtub had Jacuzzi jets and there was a slightly alarming amount of ornately framed mirrors. 

It was warm enough inside for Will to strip town to a silk nightgown. He boosted himself up on the counter near Hannibal who was sharpening knives by the sink while something cooked in the oven. There were several whetstones of different grades waiting to be used. 

Hannibal held up the knife to check the edge. He resumed sharpening. 

”Can I ask you something?” said Will. 

”I would never discourage questions from you, caro mio,” Hannibal said. 

”You said Momund died before the soldiers,” Will began. “Was he your first victim?” 

”He was the first person I ever killed, yes,” answered Hannibal, “but not the first I ever hurt.” 

”Really?” 

Hannibal nodded, inspecting the knife’s edge again. It went back to the stone. “I told you I was taken to an orphanage before my Uncle found me. The children there found me odd for my reticence and were cruel out of their own anger at the world for the situation we were all in. They tried to hurt me so I hurt them. The caretakers were fond of me, they never caught me nor did they believe anyone who tried to accuse me of their injuries. The younger children often came to me for protection.” 

The mental image of a tiny Hannibal surrounded by tinier children was precious. He would have seen his sister in each of them. Will wondered if that had helped or hindered Hannibal’s being what he is. 

”How did you kill the soldiers?” Will asked, relieved that he could now ask these questions outright. 

Hannibal threw him a glance. “May I ask why you’re asking?” 

”I want to see it,” said Will. “As best as I can, I want to see it. Please?” 

Hannibal smiled. “There were five of them. I found one, or more accurately, the first of them found me when I went to Lithuania after Momund’s death to give my sister a proper burial. He recognized me as well and tried to kill me. Instead, a few hours after nightfall, not far from the manor, I freed his head from his shoulders with the help of a horse drawn cart.” 

Will sucked in a breath. He saw blood spreading over stone, lit by passing fireflies and a cool, bright moon. “Do you remember his name?” 

”I remember the names of all who’ve angered me, my dear.” Hannibal smirked. “His name was Enrikas Dortlich. 

”The second of them I killed was Zigmas Milko,” Hannibal continued. “I encountered him in medical school. I drowned him in embalming fluid after hours. Do you recall the building I pointed out to you in Paris?” 

Will nodded, hands sweaty where they white knuckled the edge of the counter. His wrists protested, but Will needed the anchor. 

”That was where I killed Petras Kolnas.” Hannibal raised the knife, pressing the tip, so, _so_ gently against the soft spot under Will’s chin. “I stabbed him through here. Up into his brain. With a kitchen knife, not too unlike this one.” 

Will trembled. “And the fourth?” he said, not much caring whether he cut himself or not, feelings mixed when he didn’t bleed. 

”Vladis Grutas,” said Hannibal, slowly running the tip of the knife over Will’s Adam’s apple. “I killed him in his little apartment. I bled him out slowly as I carved by sister’s initial into his flesh.” 

Hannibal nudged the folds of Will’s gown aside with his blade. He traced a letter onto Will’s bare, flushed skin, leaving behind raised pink lines. 

”’M'?” said Will. “You’ve never actually told me her name.” 

Hannibal smiled and kept writing on Will’s chest. Will mouthed out the letters. 

”Mischa? Did I say that right?” 

”Yes,” Hannibal said, voice a bit distant. “My beloved Mischa.” 

”I like it,” Will said. 

”It means ‘gift from God'.” Hannibal resumed sharpening the knife. “She certainly felt like one.” 

Will wasn’t a religious man. Frankly, the idea of an afterlife was terrifying to him. But he hoped little Mischa Lecter was happy somewhere, anywhere. If she was, neither he nor Hannibal would be able to join her, but that was fine. As long as they were together, it would be fine. 

”What did you do to the last one?” said Will. 

A crease appeared between Hannibal’s brows. “Would you prefer a direct answer or a more detailed one?” 

Will shrugged. “I don’t mind details.” 

”Lady Murasaki knew of my activities and had constantly attempted to make me stop,” said Hannibal. “Obviously, I refused to. We parted ways, she returned to her homeland and I planned to continue my studies in Italy—in this very city, in fact. Before I did, however, I went to Canada to take care of Bronys Grentz. 

”I found him in his antique shop one snowy day and presented him with his dog tags before shooting him and covering his wares with his own blood. I left all the men’s tags in his store.” 

”Beautiful,” Will sighed, mind of full of blood, burning lungs and the letter ‘m'. 

Hannibal smiled and kissed his hand. “Thank you, my love. Does it please you to see these scenes in your mind?” 

Will nodded. “Yeah. You killed here, too, didn’t you?” 

”I did.” 

”Tell me about those, too?” 

”I will,” Hannibal promised. “But not yet.” 

Will frowned. “Why not?” 

Hannibal looked up in the middle of switching whetstones. “Would you not like me to bring you to the places I left my work?” 

Will’s breath caught. He leaned in close. “Can you?” he said, breathless. 

Hannibal cupped his cheek. “I can. There is, however, a place I must take you first to help my story.” 

”Okay,” Will said. “Let’s go tomorrow.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “That was my plan, yes.” 

Will grinned and kissed Hannibal’s palm. “Good.” 

”So eager,” Hannibal commented. “How lucky I am to have you.” 

Will nipped his fingers. “I’m luckier for being with you.” 

Hannibal smirked. “Agree to disagree, darling.” 

Will wrinkled his nose and pulled away from Hannibal’s touch. Hannibal secured the whetstone and resumed sharpening. 

”So, where are we going after shopping tomorrow?” asked Will. 

”The Uffizi Gallery.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again reliant on naught but google translate so correct me (I'm begging you PLEASE correct me) if I'm wrong but:
> 
> Mano meilė. Tu mane sutriuškinai. = My love. You shatter me.
> 
> *prays that I'm at least close*


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> Most of the mentioned pieces are (to my limited knowledge and as of my last search) actually to be found in the Uffizi Gallery except for Boticelli's _St. Sebastian_ which I think might be in Germany, but I needed it for reasons so let's just pretend it's in Italy.
> 
> A little more homophobia, I don't know why I keep putting homophobic duos in here, I am so sorry, I'm pretty sure these are the last ones, though.
> 
> Lastly, this is a pretty short chapter, I'm sorry, but my period and a headache are attempting to very very slowly murder me. I'll be back on Tuesday. Enjoy!!

”We are approaching the last piece I need to show you.”

Will nodded, hand in Hannibal’s as he was led down the echoing halls of the Uffizi Gallery. They’d been there for some time now. There were some things Hannibal said he needed to show him, but he _wanted_ Will to see everything, so they hadn’t rushed. Will obediently memorized the details of the pieces Hannibal called important. 

Will had asked, in the sculpture hall, _why_ they were important. Hannibal had whispered that he’d made tableaux replicating the pieces he was pointing out. 

Will had very nearly asked Hannibal to restart the whole tour so he could make sure he remembered everything correctly. 

Hannibal stopped in front of a painting and Will focused. The little card read: _Primavera, Sandro Botticelli, 1482._

”Another Botticelli,” Will said, recalling the _St. Sebastian_ Hannibal had singled out earlier. 

”Yes,” said Hannibal. “I spent much of my free time here, sketching masterworks. I enjoyed the challenge of attempting to capture curls.” 

Will laughed as Hannibal reached up to wind one of Will’s curls around a finger. “You are ridiculous.” 

”Am I?” 

”Absolutely.” Something clicked. “Oh.” 

Hannibal cocked his head. “Darling? What are you seeing?” 

”Replicating masterworks,” Will mused. 

”I’m afraid I’m not quite following,” said Hannibal. 

”I’ve been wondering why your MO here and your MO there are different in terms of presentation,” Will explained, eyes running over the painting. “At first I thought it was just because you didn’t wanna connect the two, but that’s not all of it, is it?” 

”Is it not?” 

Will shook his head, leaning his shoulder against Hannibal’s. He memorized the gentle tilt of the middle woman’s head. “No. Here you were an amateur replicating masterworks. There you’re a master yourself, making your own pieces to pass down and be remembered by.” 

”Exactly so, my love,” Hannibal said, voice low, squeezing Will’s waist. “You read me so well.” 

”You let me,” Will retorted, amused. 

”Give yourself some credit, caro mio,” said Hannibal. “You’re very good at your job—is that not how you caught me? If you didn’t hold affection for me, I’m sure I’d be behind bars by now.” 

Will shot him a glance. “I don’t think so.” 

”Why not?” 

”You’re too smart,” Will answered. “You must have failsafes and back up plans and escape routes. I might’ve been able to expose you, but I wouldn’t be able to catch you, no one would.” 

”I would’ve been impressed by you,” Hannibal mused. “I would’ve made an attempt to take you with me.” 

”And I would’ve hated that,” Will told him. “Initially, at least. The fact that we’re having this conversation is proof you’d be able to change my mind.” 

Hannibal kissed his cheek. “In any case, I think myself very lucky that this is the route fate decided we take.” 

Will smiled. “Me, too.” 

  


=¤=

”The alley on your right, just past this bakery,” said Hannibal. 

”Okay.” Will glanced down the surprisingly clean alley that led to the next street over. 

”I recreated Caravaggio's _Medusa_ there with a woman who spat at me while she was drunk. I caught snakes out in the fields and stitched them to her scalp,” Hannibal said. 

Will swallowed. He held on tight to Hannibal’s hand, too busy constructing the scene in his head to watch where he was going. It had happened twice during their walk already when Hannibal told him about previous tableaux: the rightmost woman in Titian's _Venus of Urbino_ in a park and Parmigianino's _Madonna with the Long Neck_ under a street corner lamppost. 

And there were still two more to go. 

”That was only a head right?” said Will. “What did you do to the rest of her?” 

Hannibal kissed his cheek. “There was construction happening a few streets over. I threw her into a cement mixer.” 

Will grinned. “Because Medusa turns people to stone?” 

Hannibal smirked. “Yes.” 

Will laughed, pressing his forehead into Hannibal’s shoulder as they waited to cross the street. Hannibal chuckled against his hair. Ridiculous. Will’s lover was absolutely ridiculous. Will adored him. 

”Do I have more of your terrible humor to look forward to?” Will asked. 

”Is it truly so terrible?” said Hannibal. 

”Don’t worry, I love you anyway,” Will reassured. 

Before Hannibal could reply, someone called his name. They both turned and saw a woman with grey streaked red hair and a tote bag of groceries. She was peering at Hannibal curiously. She said something in a quick burst of Italian. 

”Signora Ricci,” said Hannibal. “Will, this is Timothea Ricci, the wife of one of my previous teachers. Signora, this is my lover, Will Graham.” 

”Hello,” said Will. 

”Hello,” Timothea replied, smiling. “It’s good to see you’re doing so well, Hannibal.” 

”Thank you,” Hannibal said. “How have you and Doctor Ricci been?” 

”Very well,” Timothea answered. “We just returned from visiting our oldest in Milan. She’s working hard for her ballet in the spring.” 

”That sounds lovely, I wish the best for her,” Hannibal replied. 

Timothea laughed. “Oh, she would be ecstatic to hear that from you.” She winked at Will. “She used to have quite the fancy for your Doctor Lecter.” 

Will quirked a smile. “Can’t say I don’t understand.” 

She laughed again. “He’s a very good choice, Hannibal.” 

”I’m well aware,” said Hannibal, squeezing Will’s hand. Will had to look down. 

”Could I possibly invite the two of you to dinner?” Timothea asked. “It’s really been much too long.” 

”Please, do, but I must ask that you accept my invitation as well.” Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will. “I’m sure you remember how fond I am of having someone for dinner.” 

Will’s heart stuttered. 

He took a slow, deep breath as the two discussed things. Will hadn’t brought it up again, content to let Hannibal plan it out and now it was being dangled right in front of him. Did Hannibal already have someone in mind or were they going to look together? Would Hannibal make a scene out of them? Unlikely and an unwise decision besides, but Will wouldn't stop Hannibal if he wanted to. 

His breathing had sped up again. 

Will absentmindedly said goodbye before Timothea left. Hannibal guided him across the street. 

”Where has your mind gone, darling?” said Hannibal as if he didn’t know exactly what was happening in Will’s head. 

”Thinking about the shopping we’re gonna do,” Will replied. “Will it be like back home?” 

"Is that what you would like?” 

”Yes.” _Please, please, please._

”We’ll have to decide on our swine,” Hannibal said. “That, however, can wait until later.” 

Will wrinkled his nose. “Can it?” 

Hannibal laughed. “Yes, caro mio, it can. Don’t you want to see the final two places?” 

Will didn’t need to think about it. “I want to. Are they nearby?” 

”Not quite,” Hannibal answered. “We have to return to our apartment for a ride. We won’t be going too far, just outside the city.” 

”There’s only the Botticellis left,” Will mused. “ _Primavera_ and _St. Sebastian._ ”

”Correct,” said Hannibal. 

”Did the Italians give you a name?” 

Hannibal gave him an amused look. “I was under the impression you didn’t approve of giving epithets to killers.” 

Will shrugged. “Doesn’t mean people won’t do it. Besides, a name can’t give you any more power than you already have.” 

”Very true,” said Hannibal. They rounded a group of grandmothers arguing loudly in Italian. Once they were out of earshot, Hannibal continued; “They called me ‘Il Monstro' or simply ‘The Monster'.” 

Will turned it over in his head. “I think I like Chesapeake Ripper more. Not bad, though.” 

”Do you agree that I’m a monster?” asked Hannibal. 

”You _are_ a monster,” said Will, brow raised. “But that’s part of why I’m in love with you. I wonder what that makes me.” 

”A blessing,” Hannibal answered immediately. “You are a blessing and the greatest treasure I could ever have.” 

Will shook his head, though he was smiling. “Pretty sure that’s not what anyone else would say.” 

”What do they matter?” 

”Well, I guess you have a point there.” 

”Then, we are on the same page,” Hannibal said. He led Will to the underground parking of their apartment building. 

”Did you already rent something?” inquired Will. 

”No,” answered Hannibal. “I had something sent here from home.” 

Will looked around. “You brought the Bentley?” 

”Not the Bentley,” said Hannibal with a nod to their left. Will followed and stilled. 

It was one of the sleek, obviously expensive chrome and leather motorcycles that had been in the garage mocking Will with images of how gorgeous Hannibal would look on it. 

He was about to actually see it. 

”I promise to drive safely,” said Hannibal. 

”Mm-hm.” 

Hannibal tipped up Will’s chin and kissed him, licking his lips, but not slipping between. Will tried to chase after Hannibal when he pulled away, but was stopped by the hand on his chin. 

”We need to put on something a bit warmer, caro mio,” Hannibal said. 

”Mm-hm,” Will repeated. 

Hannibal laughed and kissed him again. “Upstairs now.” 

They went to the apartment and put on some warmer pants and a riding jacket (Hannibal, leather, _yes_ ). Hannibal got a pair of helmets from a cupboard and they headed back to the bike while Hannibal gave him a few safety precautions. 

Will got on behind his lover, holding tight. He gently tapped their helmets together in lieu of a kiss. Hannibal asked if he was ready. 

Will said yes. 

The bike growled underneath them. They were soon out of the lot and going down the streets, heading west. It was cold, but Will used it as an excuse to cuddle against Hannibal’s back as much as the bike would allow. 

They were definitely doing this again in the States. 

They stopped briefly on a stretch of road that looked just like any other with trees to one side and a field opposite. Hannibal told him to remember the place, then took off again. 

Hannibal took a turn onto a smaller road and later, another turn onto a dirt path. It ended on a cliff, one of those places that was definitely popular with teenagers hoping to get lucky either with a lover or with death. Hannibal sat at the base of a tree, facing the cliff and the rather nice view of farmland and forest it afforded. Will sat between his legs, leaning on his chest. Hannibal tugged his clothes out of the way and kissed the healing birthmark on his neck. 

”Picture the _Primavera_ ,” requested Hannibal, lips at Will’s reddening ear. “The two rightmost figures: the woman being grabbed by the man in the tree. I placed them in a truck bed with branches from orange trees in the same place I left them: at that spot I stopped us on earlier.” 

Will saw it: the lovingly placed bodies and the elegant hands tugging clothes and leaves into perfect position, carefully and beautifully recreating Botticelli's work. Hannibal would've fussed over it for ages, trying to make everything perfect, unwilling to present anything less though none would ever know who made it.

He trembled. “What did they do?” 

”They were lovers,” Hannibal began. “I encountered them while I was in the library doing research for a rather important report. I could smell the sex on them as they passed me, giggling. I could smell it again from the fluids they left all over a book I was intending to borrow.” 

”Gross.” 

”Indeed,” agreed Hannibal. “I will, however, say I understand now the inability to restrain one’s self around the one they love.” 

Will smiled and tipped his head back to let Hannibal kiss along his neck. “Yeah, I can understand that, but not leaving ‘fluids'—”he did air quotes"—all over a book for someone else to deal with.” 

Hannibal hummed. Will shuddered. Hannibal was getting hard at his back. 

”The last one,” Will said. “You haven’t told me about the last one yet.” 

Hannibal chuckled. He pointed to a spot in the woods below the cliff. “There is an intersection there, connecting several farms. I put my version of Botticelli’s _St. Sebastian_ there, using a young man with bright blue eyes and wildly curling dark hair.” 

”Oh.” Will’s heart was racing. But not out of fear. 

Hannibal laughed once more, licking the shell of Will’s ear. “He was the slightly younger cousin of an acquaintance. He was beautiful and I admit I had wanted to sleep with him. He himself made no effort to hide his own interest in me.” 

Will scowled. “I don’t like him.” 

”You have nothing to be jealous of, my love, I never bedded him,” said Hannibal. 

”Good,” Will growled, a bit surprised by his own petulance. 

Hannibal put a hand on Will’s throat, his other on Will’s hip, stroking the line between thigh and crotch. “He irritated me with his habit of putting his shoe covered feet on my furniture and eating crackers on my couch, getting crumbs between the cushions.” 

Will shivered. “He’s not the only one with those habits.” 

”True.” Hannibal kissed his cheek. “But you, mano širdis, are the exception to many, many rules.” 

Will whimpered, shifting to get Hannibal’s hand on stiffening cock. Hannibal rubbed and Will responded with a soft moan. 

”How—”Will stuttered. “How did—how did you kill him?” 

”I ran into him while getting groceries,” said Hannibal, still gently rubbing. “I invited him back to my apartment. I accepted a kiss as his thanks for my forever preserving his beauty as art and snapped his neck, quick and clean.” 

He put his hands on Will’s jaw and slid his hands along his skin in the same move he would make to break a neck. There was no force to the touch, but Will turned with it, feeling only the slightest strain in his muscles before he was released. 

He was sure his heart was beating loud enough to be heard for miles, but Hannibal’s voice effortlessly rose above it. 

”I cut into his back to take his heart because the original piece didn’t allow for such marks on his front. I stuffed his heart with mushrooms and ate it with a red wine sauce and fingerling potatoes.” 

Will gasped and ground the heel of his hand on his cock. “Will you make that for me, please?” 

Hannibal smiled against his neck. “As you wish, my love. I’ll arrange a menu around it for the Riccis.” 

_”Oh, God, yes.”_

Hannibal slapped Will’s hand out of the way to cup Will’s cock. Will reached back to fist a hand in Hannibal’s hair as he started sucking on his neck. He writhed, grinding back onto Hannibal’s cock. Will let his eyes flutter shut. 

”No complaints on our location?” asked Hannibal. 

Will pulled on Hannibal’s hair. “One, this falls into the same category as sucking your dick by the creek in my private property; and two, if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I’m gonna call Jack to tell him to check out your basement.” 

Hannibal laughed, breath ghosting over Will’s skin. “No need for threats, darling.” 

Will sighed as Hannibal moved him onto his hands and knees. 

With any luck, none of the aforementioned teenagers would be showing up anytime soon. 

  


=¤=

Will got two glasses of wine from the bartender and crossed the sumptuous VIP lounge of the theater they were watching a ballet in. Hannibal had told him the name of the place, but it was all in Italian and Will didn’t wanna butcher it. Hannibal also told him the original _Sleeping Beauty_ was around four hours long, but they were watching a shortened two hour version since it was Will’s first ballet. 

Will was grateful for it, though he’d found himself thoroughly enjoying the first hour. 

He spotted his lover talking to Timothea and a stocky, silver haired man he assumed was her husband. He gave Hannibal his drink while greeting the two. The man introduced himself as Timothea’s husband, Doctor Faust Ricci. 

”Forgive me for being eager, Hannibal,” said Faust, “but have you set a date for dinner yet?” 

”I have,” Hannibal replied, hand returning to its usual place on Will’s waist. “Are the both of you free in two days, Monday night?” 

”Yes, we are,” Timothea answered. “Our children won’t be arriving until Wednesday.” 

”It must be wonderful to live with such an amazing cook,” Faust said to Will. 

Will huffed out a laugh. “A little less fun when he demonstrates how to flambé once then tells you to do it on your own.” 

”You did very well,” said Hannibal. 

”I spilled half the cognac on the burner,” Will reminded him. 

”An easy mistake to make,” Hannibal assured, gently tugging Will closer. Will just shook his head and opened his mouth—

Someone knocked into his shoulder, only quick reflexes stopping him from spilling red wine on Timothea’s pale blue dress. A pair of men stomped past, both sneering over their shoulders. “Finocchio ovunque,” one of them spat. 

Will blinked. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what had happened, considering the sneers were directed at him and Hannibal. Insults sounded the same no matter the language. 

”The words of cretin are best ignored,” Timothea declared. “What time should we arrive for dinner, Hannibal?” 

”At 9p.m., if that suffices,” Hannibal said, hand a bit too tight on Will. “I've only just finalized the components of the menu.” 

Will swallowed. 

”Oh, what will you be serving us, Hannibal?” asked Faust. 

”Not knowing is part of the fun,” said Hannibal. “You will have to wait and see.” 

Will brought his glass up as he glanced at Hannibal, blood rushing in his ears. He looked back in the direction the two men had disappeared to. 

What would their hearts look like stuffed with mushrooms and served with a red wine sauce and fingerling potatoes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Italian bit is something I refuse to translate because a) fuck homophobia and b) I can't actually remember what they mean just that they are Italian slurs according to wikipedia. If I'm wrong, please correct me.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda graphic, so, uh, warning for that.
> 
> Also, I added a scene to the end of chapter 20. It was in the original draft of this work but I removed it when I was typing up the chapter because I was like, what does this have to do with anything?? Then I got to _this_ chapter and I was like oh, that's why I wrote that scene. It's not super important, this chapter will still make sense without reading it, I just needed it there for my own peace of mind.
> 
> Also, also: your usual reminder that I have ZERO medical knowledge. If you do have medical knowledge and spot something horribly incorrect, please point it out and I'll try (keyword: try) to fix it.
> 
> Enjoy!!

It’s not like it was news to him, but it was kind of amazing how good Hannibal was at his…unconventional hobbies. In the oddest ways.

Before the 20 minute intermission was over, Hannibal had managed to pickpocket both men for their wallets, taken pictures of their licenses in the restroom and put their wallets back in their pockets a couple euros lighter and with neither of them noticing. _Why_ exactly he’d stolen money from them when there was literally no need to was a question Will hadn’t gotten anything resembling a sensible answer to. 

Hannibal had returned to Will side just as the intermission ended and led Will back to their seats. 

The rest of the ballet passed by uneventfully, Will shelving thoughts of future plans in the back of his mind to properly appreciate the elegant movements pairing with the sweeping music. 

They left right after the final curtain call and prepared to sleep the moment they got home. Hannibal said they had an eventful morning coming. 

Will was gently woken up around 3 a.m. Will stumbled his way through a quick breakfast, changing clothes and getting into a non-descript car from who knew where. Hannibal could have hotwired it, he could have rented it, Will was in no state to recall. 

Will kept sipping from his coffee thermos as Hannibal drove. He became more and more awake until he could put the thermos away and look at the photos of the licenses Hannibal had lifted from the men. He looked up the addresses and their names: Luca Esposito and Feliciano Cifaldi. 

”They live on the same street,” Will noted, voice still a bit raspy. He missed the Bentley’s seat warmers. “Assuming their licenses are up to date. Looks like it is, though. There’s nothing online about them moving. Didn’t anyone ever tell them they should make their accounts private? One of them lives with family, is that gonna be trouble?” 

Hannibal smiled, but his eyes didn’t leave the road. “We don’t have to fetch them immediately, darling. We’re watching and waiting for opportune times.” 

”Okay,” said Will. “Where are we taking them?” 

”My former base of operations,” answered Hannibal. “I have property a small distance from the city under an assumed name.” 

”Boy scout,” Will teased, putting Hannibal’s phone on the dash. 

”I couldn’t possibly be where I am now if I wasn’t prepared, caro mio,” said Hannibal. 

Will hummed. 

They parked in an ally between houses, one of them being Luca Esposito’s, the one living alone. They got out of the car and checked for cameras and security systems. The latter was present, but it was deactivated. The house was dark and silent. 

”Where do you think he is?” asked Will. 

Hannibal pointed. “The only room with drawn curtains.” 

”Are we getting him now?” 

”It seemed an opportune time, doesn’t it?” 

Will grinned. He was tempted to start bouncing where he stood like a child offered ice cream. 

”Do you know how to pick locks?” Hannibal asked, digging a case out of his coat pocket. 

”Yeah,” Will answered and accepted the picks Hannibal held out. “Shoes?” 

”We'll drop these into a charity box later,” said Hannibal. 

Will nodded. 

They broke in through the back door which led into a kitchen. There was a barely touched bottle of whiskey on the counter. It had a stag head on it and it was because of that that Will touched Hannibal’s arm and jerked his head at it with a hopeful look. Hannibal gave him an amused smile and nodded. 

Will kissed him. 

They went up in the direction of the room Hannibal had pointed out, sticking close to the wall where it would be less likely to creak. 

They listened by the door to Esposito’s presumed bedroom for a few minutes. He was asleep. He was also a (very loud) snorer and a deep sleeper as evidenced by his not so much as twitching when they nudged the door open and crept to his side. 

Will hung back, watching and observing for now. Esposito wouldn’t be dying here, but Hannibal didn’t like drugging his victims. He could be secured in the car, but just grabbing him right then would wake him. What would Hannibal do? 

He woke Esposito up and, just as he was beginning to process things, Hannibal gave him a swift, precise, punch to the jaw to knock him back into unconsciousness. 

Will blinked. 

”He should be out for a while,” Hannibal announced. “Could you fix the bed for me, darling?” 

”Sure.” 

Hannibal dragged Esposito off the bed, tossing him over his shoulder. Will did as he was told while Hannibal poked at the heater. He said it was set to turn off at a certain time and they should leave it as it was. They turned off Esposito’s phone and took it with them. Will made sure to grab the bottle of whiskey on their way out. 

Esposito was tossed into the trunk and Hannibal tied his arms together behind his back while Will did his ankles. His ankles and wrists were connected with rope and his mouth covered with duct tape. There was plenty of room beside him for a companion. 

”Are we taking him to your hidey-hole now?” Will asked. 

”Not yet,” said Hannibal. “We'll look into Mr. Cifaldi first.” 

They brought the car to an alley a house away from their other target since the closest ones were blocked off. They looked the house over, Will noting the discarded toy car near the back door and the childish chalk doodles on the plant boxes under the windows. 

He felt a bit bad about what was he was going to put this family through—but not enough to stop. They would be fine. Children were hardier than most thought and they would still have a mother. They peeked into the garage and Will stilled. 

”Darling?” 

”Someone’s not in the house,” Will said. “There’s too much room next to that car for it to not be for another one.” 

”It could be for a family member arriving for the holidays,” said Hannibal. 

Will shook his head. “If that were the case it would be messier. People are lazy, they wouldn’t make space until their guests were already here, needing that space and there wouldn’t be toys and doodles strewn around.” 

”Who do you think is gone?” asked Hannibal. 

”If I had to make a bet? The man of the house,” said Will. He nodded to the car in the garage. “That’s the kind of car you drive your kids around in”—(or dogs in Will’s case)—”not the kind of car someone who doesn’t take their wife to the ballet uses.” 

”Perhaps she’s unwell,” Hannibal reasoned. 

Will shook his head again. “He’s almost definitely out with a mistress right now. Should we wait?” He turned to Hannibal. Paused. 

Hannibal was looking at him with a small smile and dark eyes. He’d already known everything Will had said, he'd just been asking questions to pick at Will’s head. 

Just like when Will was using him as a soundboard for case theories. He could almost feel the leather seat underneath him, see the red walls of Hannibal’s office. 

Will had to give him a quick kiss. “Focus, Dr. Lecter, are we waiting?” 

Hannibal checked his watch. “Twenty minutes. Then, we have to go.” 

They settled in a spot behind some bare bushes with a view of the driveway and the street, but hidden from both. Will was carefully not to let his clothes touch the ground as he crouched down. 

”Don’t dissect me like that,” Will said, without any actual heat. 

Hannibal chuckled. “I can’t help it, darling. You’re too interesting for me to stop myself.” 

Will rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t say he really minded. Countless people had tried to stick their hands in his brain to figure out how he worked, but Will hadn’t lumped Hannibal into the same category for a long, long while now. 

He wasn’t one of the people who wanted to use him—or at least, not in the same way. He wasn’t an interesting anomaly to write a paper on and to be tossed aside once milked dry of the prestige he could give them. He was an interesting anomaly to hoard away and keep forever; to examine and adore, scrutinize and care for in equal measure. 

For that reason, Will would forgive him. For that reason, Will would let him keep poking. For that reason, Will loved him. 

He leaned against Hannibal and settled in to wait. 

  


Hannibal had just announced the twenty minutes over when a stylish sports car appeared, slowing as it approached the Cifaldi residence. Hannibal squeezed Will’s arms. “Wait for me at the car,” he said, urgently. 

Will nodded and snuck off. He glanced back just once, seeing Hannibal approaching Cifaldi as he stepped out of the car. Cifaldi was still in his tuxedo, though messy and wrinkled. 

Will got to the alley, breathing heavily as he sat on the hood of their car. In just seconds Hannibal appeared with Cifaldi, chatting amicably. Then, Hannibal’s fist shot out and Cifaldi hadn’t even begun falling yet before Hannibal grabbed him and ducked into the alley. 

”How did you get him to walk with you?” Will asked as he popped the trunk. Esposito was still out. 

Hannibal smirked. “I told him I got lost on my way to meet a mistress. Your deduction was correct, he told me himself. He didn’t seem to recognize me from earlier.” 

A laugh burst out of Will’s mouth. Hannibal paused in tying up Cifaldi and leaned over to kiss Will. Will indulged him (and himself) before telling Hannibal to focus so they could leave. 

Soon they were on their way out of the city, Will playing with Hannibal’s fingers. 

  


=¤=

Will had never figured out how to get to Hannibal’s murder basement, so the hidey-hole was his first glimpse into where Hannibal did his work. 

It was a simple, small farm house, beautiful in that idyllic way especially with dawn just beginning to break. Hannibal brought the car to the back where well maintained and locked cellar doors were. Will waited while Hannibal got the gas powered generator going, an addition originally made just in case the regular power got cut off but was now being used so their activities wouldn’t be so easily tracked. 

The basement the cellar doors led to was normal, but Hannibal had the two of them shifting wood off a corner to reveal a trap door leading to a repurposed bomb shelter. Hannibal had switched out the ladder for a staircase for ease of, well, murder. 

Hannibal carried Esposito down with a flashlight since the way down wasn’t lit, while Will trailed behind him with Hannibal’s leather medicine bag and a cooler carrying some ice packs. Esposito was dumped to the side before Hannibal hit some switches and after a low buzz, the lights (most of them) flickered to life, casting a yellow-ish glow over the large room. 

Will looked around while Hannibal went back up to get Cifaldi. 

Everything was easy to clean tile and stainless steel. There were lowerable hooks hanging from the ceiling and chains bolted to the walls. In the middle of the room was an autopsy table, perforated to make it easier to clean. The faucets and hoses would pour filtered water from a nearby river. 

Will was shaking. Esposito stirred. Will slammed his head against the wall to knock him out again. He swallowed. 

”Is he awake?” 

Will looked up, seeing Hannibal stepping off the stairs, Cifaldi over his shoulder. Will shrugged. “Not anymore.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Shall we clean up before we begin?” 

Esposito and Cifaldi were chained to the wall while Will and Hannibal wiped things down. There was a lot less dust than Will expected. Will tugged on the manacles attached to the table, impressed by how well they’d held up through the years. 

What would they feel like around Will’s still bruised wrists? 

Hannibal eventually deemed the place ‘clean enough’ (translation: not up to his standards, but tolerable) and they got Cifaldi on the table; strapping him in by the ankles, knees, hips, wrists, upper arms and forehead, after stripping him. Will put a hand over Cifaldi's heart. His own was beating much, much faster. 

He jumped when hands landed on his shoulders. “Are you ready?” Hannibal whispered. 

”For what, exactly?” Will asked, mouth dry. 

”Well,” said Hannibal, “you requested a meal of heart, my love. We need to get the ingredients.” 

Will turned to look at him, smiling. “You’re gonna walk me through the first and make me do the second on my own?” 

”Exactly.” 

Will laughed and returned his attention to the man in the table. He was feverish and shaky, but his hand was steady as Hannibal slipped a bone saw into it. He reached around Will and drew a broken line down the man’s sternum with a thin marker. 

”I'll guide your hand so you know what angle to hold and how much pressure to apply,” Hannibal said. “Do you want to hear him?” 

Will nodded. He didn’t it wait; he reached up with his free hand and ripped the tape off Cifaldi’s lips. 

Cifaldi awoke, at first angry, but quickly becoming scared. Everything in his head echoed in Will’s: the helplessness from being tied down; the mounting dread as his eyes bounced around, taking in what they could; the desperate, oh, so desperate, clinging to hope…

Will flinched as his ear was bitten. “Focus on me, mano širdis, not him. Focus on me,” Hannibal ordered. 

Will was gasping, almost perfectly matching Cifaldi’s breaths between his mixed begs and demands. Hannibal began breathing slowly against Will’s neck—right on the still purple bite mark. 

Will was jolted out of Cifaldi’s head, but it took him a moment to completely calm himself. He wrapped himself in the silken darkness that was his Chesapeake Ripper and found the peace to figure out which pieces were his and how to put them back together. 

”Are you with me, Will?” 

”Always.” 

”Shall we cut into him?” 

”Yes.” 

Cifaldi’s begging increased in volume and desperation when Hannibal lifted Will’s hand with the saw and positioned it high on the man’s chest. Will glanced into Cifaldi’s bright green eyes, filled with fear and panic, but Will didn’t drown this time. He was too firmly tethered to the rock that was Hannibal Lecter. 

The saw was activated. Cifaldi thrashed, screamed, begged. The saw plunged through skin and bone. Cifaldi _thrashed, screamed, begged._

Will’s mouth ran dry. Blood was welling up as they dragged the saw down. It seemed like hours passed, but he knew it was only seconds. Hannibal took the saw and put it aside. 

Cifaldi was crying. Will reached up. Touched his wet cheek. Cifaldi flinched. Screamed. Begged. 

Will turned to Hannibal, heart jumping, hands and feet tingling. “What next?” 

Hannibal laughed. “Excited, are we?” 

”Yeah,” Will replied, giving in to the urge to bounce on his heels just once. Cifaldi was screaming what sounded like Italian prayers. 

”In that case,” said Hannibal, “let me show you how to brace open a chest.” 

”This feels more like surgery than an autopsy,” Will commented. 

”Well, he’s not dead,” Hannibal pointed out. 

”Yet.” 

Hannibal’s smile was sharp enough to cut. “Yet.” 

Will placed and moved the brace as he was told, Hannibal reaching in to do a few corrections, always explaining his reasoning. In a few moments, Will got his first look at a still beating human heart. 

Will let out a shaky breath. He thought the heart he was looking at and the heart in his chest matched each other beat for beat. He gently, gently, _gently_ propped it with the very tip of his finger, flinching as the wet organ surged against him. 

Hands touched his waist. “Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” 

”Mm. I want to hold it.” 

”Go right ahead,” said Hannibal. “Just remember not to be too rough, you don’t want to ruin dinner.” 

Will shook his head. Never that. 

Cifaldi had petered off to quiet sobs and pleas to God. 

Will gently, gently, _gently_ cupped the slick, thrumming heart, a small part of him surprised Cifaldi hadn’t died of shock yet. Will memorized the sight of it, the feel of it brushing against his hand as it throbbed. His cock jerked. 

"Hannibal,” said Will. “Do you remember that dream about Ingram?” 

Hannibal kissed his nape. “Yes, I do. I don’t, however, recommend biting into a raw heart.” 

”That’s okay,” Will said. “I know it’ll be better once you’ve cooked it.” 

”We first need to remove it,” Hannibal reminded and some thread in Will’s hand. He brought it up to Cifaldi’s open chest. “Pay attention now.” 

Hannibal pointed out everything they needed to do, then began. They tied off veins and arteries so they wouldn’t make a mess spilling blood everywhere and the thread was switched out for a scalpel for them to start cutting. Will noticed quickly when Cifaldi’s heart ceased it’s beating. He sighed. 

Finally, Will removed the heart from Cifaldi’s chest. He lifted it up to the light, looking over every inch of it. There was a sluggish warmth curling through Will’s blood vessels, stemming from his red hands wrapped around a warm heart. 

”How does it feel?” 

”Good,” Will answered. “So good. God, I really want you to fuck me.” 

Hannibal laughed. His hands came up to hold Will’s. “We have a few more things to do before we can get to that.” 

Will huffed, but conceded. “Is there anything else we’re going to take from him?” 

He watched Hannibal inspect the corpse. There was only the faintest hint of his person suit on him, Hannibal unable to completely let go of it. This was the lowest Will had ever seen it. Hannibal looked beautiful. 

"His tongue I’ve wanted since the insult he spat at you,” said Hannibal. “His liver is useless, he drinks too much. Perhaps kidneys. Bone marrow is also a possibility, it would make for a good appetizer.” 

”Which are we getting first?” 

”Kidneys,” said Hannibal, picking up a marker and making a new line on Cifaldi’s side. “Offal spoils quicker than meat.” 

Will reluctantly gave up the heart for Hannibal to wrap up and put in the cooler, nestled into the ice packs. He picked up the scalpel again. 

A whimper brought their attention to Esposito, still gagged and chained to the wall. He was awake and terrified, eyes on Cifaldi’s corpse and Will standing above it, bloodstained. Will smiled at him. 

”Should I knock him out again, Hannibal?” Will said. 

”That would be for the best, yes,” Hannibal responded. 

Will nodded and went to Esposito. Esposito crawled as far away as he could, crying. He flinched when Will pet through his hair with a bloody hand. 

”Don’t worry,” Will reassured. “It’ll be your turn soon.” 

He repeated what he’d done earlier: slamming Esposito’s head against the wall and leaving slumped on the floor. Will near skipped back to Hannibal. There was more butchering to do. 

  


=¤=

Hannibal as a teacher had almost unreasonable expectations. Will had a good memory, but he wasn’t the kind of genius that could perfectly do something he’d only seen done once—distracted by emotion, too. Thankfully, Hannibal would jump in whenever he was about to do a _big_ mistake. 

Will “assisted" Hannibal as he removed Cifaldi’s tongue. They needed to bring out the saw again to get the marrow. Will poked at the exposed the muscles, imagining the way Cifaldi would scream if he was alive. He smiled. 

Will asked if Hannibal had anything planned for the bodies, Hannibal said they would be burned since the hormones released by fear made the meat bitter and he didn’t think if fit to feed to Will, so better to dispose of them. 

Hannibal said if he was planning to butcher a whole body, he made sure to kill them before they realized anything was wrong. The Ripper victims were taken from alive since they were going to be displayed anyway and to feed Hannibal’s sadism. 

Esposito woke up while they were moving him and managed to elbow Will’s stomach. Hannibal retaliated by dislocating said elbow. Over the screaming, Will chided him for the overreaction. The hit had barely winded him. 

Hannibal remained unrepentant. 

After tucking Esposito’s heart, liver and marrow into the cooler, the bodies were tossed into a furnace with plenty of fuel. They went into the house proper where they got washed up and Will finally got off. 

The blood pink water that trickled down Will’s skin from Hannibal’s hands had his cock leaking. It didn’t take long for them to finish, grinding against each other, too impatient for prep. 

It was well into mid afternoon when they left Hannibal’s property, cooler in the back of the car. Will fell asleep on the way to the apartment. 

The next day they went to the Weihnachtsmarkt German market to do some shopping for dinner with the Riccis. There was a lot of people, Will having to tether himself to Hannibal more firmly than usual to not get lost (literally and firguratively). 

They cooked dinner together, Hannibal teasing Will until Will started teasing him back and they had to stop before they got distracted. 

Though, Will was already plenty distracted. Whether harvesting organs or cooking those organs, Hannibal’s voice took on the same tone that messed with Will’s brain and made his skin feel hypersensitive. 

Will had to sit down for a bit. 

The Riccis were served actual beef hearts since Will wasn’t interested (currently) in more hunting and Hannibal wasn’t interested in doing things without Will. 

Timothea and Faust were wonderful guests. They brought wine and stories about their kids, but also about Hannibal, mostly praise regarding his talent and hard work. 

The thyme roasted marrow was served with an herb salad and slices of lemon. It was followed by the stuffed hearts which Will would’ve made inappropriate noises over if it had been just him and Hannibal, though he came close anyway. Especially when Hannibal put a hand on his thigh just as he took another bite. He didn’t participate in much conversation during that course. 

A lemon sorbet palate cleanser proceeded a dessert of mini panettone cakes and Will managed to rejoin chitchat. Hannibal offered Esposito’s (not that he said _that_ part) whiskey for after dinner drinks. Everyone accepted, though Faust declined a second glass since he was driving.

He mentioned an ice rink that had opened up a year or so ago and Hannibal said they’d definitely look into it. 

They visited the next day, also going to more tourist spots for Will’s little souvenirs. Will got a picture of Hannibal leading around a little kid that had mistaken him for their parent. They got the kid back safely, Will just barely catching the Christmas money Hannibal slipped into the kid's hand. He was pretty sure it was one of the bills Hannibal had stolen from Esposito and Cifaldi.

Will expected more of the same the next day, but was surprised at breakfast. 

”I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you alone for today,” Hannibal said. 

Will looked up from his coffee. “Really?” 

”I have a few errands to run that I cannot have you around for,” Hannibal explained. 

”Why?” 

”Christmas is in two days, darling.” 

It took Will a moment to read his implications. Then a swearword loudly sounded in his head. 

”I don’t like where this is going,” said Will. 

Hannibal chuckled. “You can't stop me.” 

”You say as if I’ve ever been able to,” Will deadpanned. He sighed. “I guess I have some shopping to do, too. Yes, I know I don’t have to,” Will said before Hannibal could even open his mouth, “but I’m going to. What should I get you?” 

Hannibal went soft around the edges. He leaned over to kiss Will, cupping his cheek. He drew back and tilted Will’s head down to kiss his forehead. 

”Don’t worry too much on that,” Hannibal whispered against his skin, making Will shiver. “You’ve already given me a gift beyond anything I could have ever wanted or dreamt of. You’ve given me companionship and love, a new wonder in a world I had thought so empty of amusements but those I made for myself. Nothing could possibly compare to such a treasure. I would spend the rest of my time on this earth giving you anything and everything you want and need for but minutes of your time. You’ve changed everything around me and even myself to the point that the loss of you would destroy both beyond recognition or repair. If you want to know what I truly wish for: it’s for you to stay with me. Nothing but that.” 

Will’s next breath was shaky. It felt like the only thing holding him up was the hand on his face. “You’re not the only one that’s changed.” 

”You pile honor upon honor on me.” Hannibal kissed him again, slow, yet burning. Will clung to his arms, tethering himself to the only piece of land he had ever seen in the roiling ocean of his mind. 

The things he would do to keep this…

The things he had _already_ done to keep this…

Hannibal was the one to pull away again. “I need to get ready.” 

Will nearly whimpered. He cleared his throat. “Okay.” 

”I’ll leave the car keys here for you,” said Hannibal. 

Will nodded and scrambled to pull his thoughts together. “How long are you going to be running your errands exactly?” 

”That depends on how much cooperation I receive,” answered Hannibal, getting to his feet. “However, I should return in time to prepare us dinner. Would you like me to make you a lunch to heat up?” 

Will shook his head. “I’ll eat out. I promise it won’t be McDonald’s.” 

”Thank you,” Hannibal said with so much relief that Will had to laugh. 

Hannibal left shortly after cleaning up breakfast with a kiss that Will made longer than necessary just because. Will stayed in the apartment a bit longer, wondering what in the world he was supposed to get Hannibal for Christmas. 

Despite the flush recalling Hannibal’s words brought to his skin, Will wanted to get him something. 

Hannibal saw Will as his only playmate in a world full of toys, but Will saw Hannibal as the only place to breathe in a world without air. He had to do _something_ for him. 

Eventually, Will decided to just get up and wander around. He dressed for the chilly Florence streets, stuck his wallet in a pocket (double and triple checking that it was there) and headed out, leaving the car behind. 

  


=¤=

Well. Will had presents. 

Plural, yes. For a moment he’d worried he’d gone overboard, but he was entirely certain Hannibal’s gift would blow right past overboard so it would be fine. 

He’d spent a lot of money in a small amount of time, but Hannibal’s near pathological need to take care of him meant he’d had quite a bit of money saved up and no real need to worry about stretching out his finances. 

He shifted his hold on the boxes as he dodged around some children. If he remembered the layout of the city right, he could cut through the park on his left to get to his final stop before heading back—

A hand landed on his shoulder. 

Will turned, frowning. Behind him was a graying man around his height, eyes dark and cautious from the single glance Will had taken before focusing on the man’s stubbly chin. He didn’t seem to keen on eye contact either. “Hello.” 

”Hello,” the man said in a low, rasping voice, colored by an Italian accent. “Forgive me, I thought I had seen you recently with Mr. Lecter.” 

”He’s not with me right now, sorry,” Will replied. “Did you know him while he lived here?” 

An odd look crossed his face, too quick for Will to make out. “I have encountered him, yes. I am Rinaldo Pazzi.” 

”Will Graham,” Will managed to free a hand to shake one of Pazzi’s. “If you give me your number, I can tell him you want to see him.” 

”That will not be necessary,” Pazzi said quickly. 

Will nodded. He shifted on his feet. Pazzi stared. 

Right. 

”Did you want something in particular?” said Will. 

”No,” Pazzi replied with a jolt. “I…be careful, Mr. Graham.” 

Will tilted his head, darting a glance at the man’s far away eyes. “What do you mean?” 

Pazzi's smile was brittle. “Simply that there are thugs and monsters everywhere, Florence is not an exception. It can be even worse for visitors and those who do not know.” 

Ah. That explained the caution and almost pity in his eyes. Will gave him a smile, warm and guileless. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” 

”Please, do,” said Pazzi. “If you ever need help, feel free to call the police and ask for me.” 

Double ah. “Thank you. Have a good day, Mr. Pazzi.” 

”And you, Mr. Graham.” 

Will walked away, feeling Pazzi's eyes on him. He had a gift to pick up and a bit of planning to do. 

An early Christmas present had just dropped onto his lap. 

  


=¤=

It was early evening when Hannibal got back. Will paused the game he was playing and glanced into the mirror with a view of the door. Hannibal wasn’t carrying anything which had Will instantly suspicious. How ridiculous was Hannibal going to get? 

”Good evening, my love,” Hannibal greeted. 

”Hi.” Will put his phone down and went over to help Hannibal with his coat. “How were your errands?” 

”They progressed very well,” said Hannibal. “Everything is as I intended them to be and on schedule.” 

”That sounds terrifying,” Will replied, following Hannibal to the kitchen. 

Hannibal smiled at him. “There’s nothing to worry over.” 

”That’s what you think,” Will shot back. “What kind of gift necessitates a schedule, exactly? Are you having it delivered?” 

”Perhaps.” 

Will hummed, perching on one of the stools as Hannibal gathered ingredients. He was given some walnuts to crack open. 

”Tell me about your shopping,” Hannibal requested. 

”I’m satisfied about how it went,” will responded, picking out a piece of shell from the insides bowl. “Your presents are on a shelf in the closet. I expect you to not touch them.” 

”I promise I won’t.” 

”Thank you.” Will cracked open another walnut. “Something interesting happened while I was out.” 

”Do tell.” 

”Do you know anyone named Rinaldo Pazzi?” 

Hannibal glanced up from the rice he was measuring out. “I’m surprised he’s still in Florence.” 

Will shrugged. “Well, maybe he’s just visiting. He was kind enough to warn me about monsters lurking in the city.” 

”Very kind, indeed,” said Hannibal. “I was quite pleased to hear he was only demoted and not made to leave the force after what _Il Monstro_ did to him.” 

”What did he do?” Will asked. 

” _Il Monstro_ never laid a hand on him,” Hannibal said. “However, he was the head investigator for the case. It wasn’t good for him. He threw about baseless accusations and crossed several lines.” 

”Who was he accusing?” 

Hannibal smirked as he began mincing garlic. “Me. No one was surprised I left for the States after the insult.” 

Will laughed. “Hopefully, his mind is in a better place now.” 

”I hope so, too,” Hannibal agreed. 

Will licked his lips. “Maybe in a good enough place to meet the man he accused again?” 

Hannibal’s knife stopped moving. He went over to Will and reached across the counter to tip Will’s chin up with his knife. 

”What kind of conversation would you like to have with Mr. Pazzi?” said Hannibal. 

”An artistic one.” 

The smile Will got was dark. “As you wish, mano širdis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all got any fantasy story recs? I've got a craving.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I were in the habit of giving my chapters titles, this one would be something like "Devotion".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry early Christmas, I guess?? I feel like I should've timed these chapters better.
> 
> Several things:
> 
> Holy hell, I just now noticed but we have broken 100k words??? Y'all have to understand, I wrote this thing onto several notebooks and I've just been typing them up before uploading them, so like......this is a shock. I knew it was long, but not this long, oh boy. Hope y'all haven't gotten tired of me yet.
> 
> Your usual disclaimer on my lack of knowledge now includes: cars, tea and what Pazzi's rank is. I know nothing about these things beyond what google could tell me. So........:))
> 
> Enjoy!!

Will turned his phone around in his hands as he waited. He could see the sky turning orange and purple outside the windows of the Palazzo Medici Riccardi (God, Will hoped he remembered that right). The hallway he was in was empty and out of the way. He was alone.

Footsteps echoed and someone turned the corner. Will sighed, relieved. “Thank you for coming,” he said. 

”It is no trouble, Mr. Graham,” said Rinaldo Pazzi. “I told you I was free for you to call on.” 

Will nodded, chewing on his lip. “Right, that’s why—I don’t know who else to tell this to, everyone else is so—no one else can see, but you seemed...” 

Pazzi was practically vibrating. “Please, speak plainly, Mr. Graham.” 

More footsteps sounded in the distance and Will flinched. “Could we, um, go somewhere more private?” He tilted his head down the hall. Pazzi’s eyes flickered to the bite exposed by Will’s loose scarf. 

”Of course, whatever makes you more comfortable,” Pazzi said. 

Will smiled at him in thanks and led the way. He tested doors until they found one unlocked. It led to a storage room full of boxes of papers. The windows of the room showed a darker sky. Will shut the door behind Pazzi. 

”This is about Mr. Lecter, yes?” Pazzi said. 

_It’s Doctor, but:_ “Yes,” Will affirmed, wringing his hands. “He…He’s not what everyone thinks.” 

Pazzi stepped closer. “Please, tell me everything.” 

”He said there was something the Italians used to call him, do you think you’ll know it?” Will asked, glancing at the door. 

Pazzi glanced at it too, and stopped ever closer. “Was it…was it Il Monstro?” 

Will let out a relieved breath and smiled, eyes fixed carefully on Pazzi and not the man creeping up behind him. “Yes, that’s what he told me.” 

Pazzi gasped through his nose, looking like he’d just won the lottery—

In the next moment, he was face down on the floor, knocked unconscious by Hannibal slamming the butt of a knife against his skull. Will stepped around him to kiss his lover. 

”Were you waiting long?” Will asked. 

”Only a few minutes,” Hannibal answered. 

”So, what are we doing?” said Will, putting his gloves on. 

”Have you ever heard of Francesco di Pazzi?” Hannibal inquired while duct taping Pazzi’s wrists together. 

”No.” Will leaned down to do the ankles. 

”He was hung outside the Palazzo generations ago,” Hannibal began. “By all accounts he was led stray by 30 pieces of silver from the hands of the Papal bank. By _some_ accounts his bowels were taken out. By others, they remained in.” 

Will glanced at the windows. “And how will _this_ Pazzi be hung?” 

Hannibal smiled. “Which would you prefer, caro mio?” 

”Let me think about it.” 

They got Pazzi onto a trolley, keeping it tilted so he wouldn’t tip off. It was full dark by he time they got him positioned by the window. 

”He’s awake,” said Will and cut some tape for Hannibal to put on a stirring Pazzi’s mouth. 

Hannibal smoothed it on. “Good evening, Commendatore.” 

Pazzi stared at him in fear, then switched his gaze to Will. Will laughed at the betrayal he saw. 

”A stunning actor, isn’t he?” said Hannibal. 

”Just making use of all the people in my head,” Will replied. 

”It was a wonderful performance,” Hannibal reiterated. Will rolled his eyes and gave no further comments. 

”Did you tell anyone about this meeting, Commendatore?” Hannibal asked. 

A phone rang. 

Will and Hannibal exchanged a glance, acknowledging that it hadn’t come from either of them. They followed the sound to Pazzi’s jacket. 

Hannibal reached into the inside pocket and took out a phone. Will peered at the screen. 

”Who’s Allegra?” said Will. 

Pazzi struggled, easily stilled by Hannibal’s hand on his throat. 

”Do they know you’re here?” Will continued, taking the phone. 

Pazzi shook his head. He barely seemed to notice Hannibal removing his hand to tie a noose. His panicked eyes were fixed on Will’s hand. Something clicked in Will’s head. 

”They’re your lover,” Will surmised. “You wouldn’t tell them about this. Sure as you are that you’re right, they would only be thinking about your demotion. You’re scared they’d leave you if they knew you were looking into this case again.” 

Will had to smile at how shocked Pazzi looked. “Don’t worry, we won’t touch them. Right Hannibal?” 

”If that’s what you wish, caro mio,” said Hannibal, slipping the noose onto Pazzi’s neck. “You are in charge.” 

”I guess.” He looked back down at Pazzi. “I can’t say I’m sorry about this. You’re a threat to us, I can’t take the risk that someone might start believing you. He’s not allowed to leave me and no one’s allowed to take him away.” 

Hannibal chuckled. He reached over Pazzi and pulled Will into a quick kiss. “I’d fight my way back to you, my love.” 

”I know. I don’t want you to have to, though,” said Will. Hannibal tried to kiss him again, but Will pushed him away. “We have things to do, Dr. Lecter,” he reminded, putting the still ringing phone back into the pocket Hannibal had gotten it from. 

”You prove a fair point,” Hannibal conceded. 

”Of course I do.” 

Hannibal took out the knife—the one Will had kept from their first kill. It looked as perfect in Hannibal’s hand as it did in his. “Now, then. Bowels in or bowels out?” 

Will tilted his head. “Do you have a preference?” he asked Pazzi. The man just looked back in despair. Something hot flickered in Will’s chest, sending warmth down to his fingers and toes. 

”Let’s go with out.” 

”As you wish.” 

The knife went down Pazzi’s stomach. They both tipped him out the window, the rope catching on the exposed pipe it was tied to. Inertia pulled Pazzi’s insides out of the cut to land with a wet slap on the ground below. 

Will’s mouth was dry and his feet tingled with an odd desire to follow Pazzi down. He burned the image into his brain before Hannibal pulled him away, saying they needed to be quick. 

They were about halfway down the hall when a faint scream echoed from outside the building. 

Will and Hannibal shared a grin and kept running. Hannibal closed the bloody knife and shoved it into a Ziploc bag before shoving _that_ into a pocket. Will helped him with his gloves, turning them inside out and tucking them away. They’d managed to keep blood off their suits, but there was a bit on Will’s shoes. They hid in an alcove for Will to clean it up with a wet wipe from a pack secreted away somewhere on Hannibal’s person and kept going.

They kept to service routes until they reached the room of the special presentation they’d supposedly come there for. They joined the crowd, none of them yet knowing about what had happened beyond this room. 

Will could see why Hannibal enjoyed things like this. 

He snagged a flute of champagne off a waiter and pretended to pay attention to a woman rambling to Hannibal about Dante. Hannibal’s hand was warm on his back and Will loved him so much it almost hurt. 

It was a pain he was looking forward to feeling for the rest of his life. 

  


=¤=

Will scrutinized himself in the mirror on Christmas morning. The blue robe fell down to his knees and brought attention to the purples and blues of his myriad bruises. Will couldn’t wait for his wrists to heal. Hannibal didn’t want to put bruises on top of bruises, but Will wanted new ones. 

He went out to the kitchen where Hannibal was finishing up breakfast: coffee and frittatas with sausage and fresh bread on the side. 

”Morning,” Will said. 

”Good morning, caro mio. Merry Christmas.” 

Will raised a brow as he sat down. “Merry Christmas. Did you celebrate it when you were younger?”

"Yes, I did,” Hannibal answered, putting a plate in front of Will. “Lithuania is a very Catholic country. I used to attend the midnight mass with my parents.” 

”That couldn’t have been fun as a kid,” Will commented. 

Hannibal smiled, taking his own seat. “It really wasn’t.” 

Will took a bite of the frittata. “Delicious,” he said and even better was Hannibal’s pleasure at the praise. 

”What about you?” Hannibal asked a little later. “Did you celebrate Christmas?” 

Will shrugged a shoulder. “As much as my Dad could manage. He always got me a little something and if we could we’d go fishing and make a feast out of whatever we caught.” 

”That sounds much more enjoyable than midnight mass.” 

Will laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t really know, but I would imagine you’re right.” He glanced at the muted TV playing the news. He hummed. “Anything on our detective friend?” 

Hannibal shook his head. “Nothing of interest.” 

Will hummed, a smile tugging at his lips. 

  


”Shall we exchange gifts now?” said Hannibal as he took a seat on the couch. 

Will felt a flare of nervousness. He heaved a breath out of his nose and pushed to his feet. “All right, let me go get yours.” 

He fetched the boxes from their spot under a jacket and put them on the coffee table in front of Hannibal. Hannibal raised a brow. 

”That’s more than what I got you,” he said. 

”I assure you,” Will replied, “it’s not gonna be as extravagant as whatever you got me.” 

”Who will be opening their presents first?” said Hannibal. 

”Rock-paper-scissors?” Will suggested. “Loser opens first.” 

A corner of Hannibal’s mouth ticked up. “As you wish.” 

They played a not-so-quick game. They tied twice, first with paper, then with scissors. Finally Hannibal threw out rock and Will scissors. He sighed. 

”Oh, boy,” Will whispered. He took a fairly small box from Hannibal and narrowed his eyes at the bright red paper around it. “I’m terrified.” 

”Why is that?” Hannibal asked. 

”No idea,” Will said, undoing the ribbon forming an almost comically large bow. “That’s not an invitation for psychoanalysis. I understand you can’t help it, but please don’t verbalize it. 

”Of course,” said Hannibal. “Please, open it.” 

Will dropped the blue ribbon onto the cushion between them. He lifted the lid and stilled. He stared at the toy car and car fob with a logo familiar even to him that didn’t much care about cars. 

He took a slow, deep breath. 

”Please don’t tell me you got me a Lamborghini.” 

”It’s currently in the garage.” Hannibal sounded so incredibly pleased with himself. “A Gallardo Spyder, in black to suit your tastes.” 

He narrowed his eyes at Hannibal. “This is because my car broke down a few weeks ago, isn’t it? I got it fixed, Hannibal, it’s fine. I didn’t even tell you about it! How did you find out?” 

”I have my methods.” 

”Was it Alana?” 

Hannibal didn’t answer. “I’m not forcing you to use this one, darling. I’m simply giving you options.” 

Will sighed, almost painfully fond. He took the toy car out, looking it over. “Well, I’ll admit it’s very pretty. Thank you, Hannibal.” 

”I’m glad it pleases you,” Hannibal replied. “You’ll be driving us to Venice in it tomorrow.” 

”Really?” 

Hannibal nodded. “A courier will be by tomorrow morning to take our luggage to our Venice apartment. You’ll also be driving us to the airport on the 2nd, the car will be coming with us to the States.” 

”Trying to get me attached to it?” 

”Perhaps.” 

Will laughed quietly. He put the toy back and something shifted inside the box. He looked in and nudged the bottom. There was a piece of paper the same color as the box hiding something underneath it. He put the toy and fob on the end table beside him and lifted the paper. 

He found a small key on a fine silver chain. Confused, he lifted it out. “And this is for…?”

Hannibal opened the drawer of the table next to him and pulled out a slim book, bound in red leather. It was clasped shut and locked tight. “Your final present.” 

”Is this what you’ve been working on at night when you think I’m asleep?” asked Will, replacing the box's contents and putting the whole thing aside before accepting the book, key held tight. 

”You usually _are_ asleep,” said Hannibal. 

Will conceded with a nod. “Can I open it?” 

”Please do.” 

Will undid the lock and lifted the hard cover—

His heart stuttered, stopped and _raced_.

Will traced his fingers over the edges of the drawing, feeling the coating that protected it from smudging. It was simple pencil on paper, rendered as clearly and beautifully as a photograph. 

On the bottom left corner of the page, it said: _James Momund (head)_.

”Is this really…?”

He saw Hannibal nod out of the corner of his eye. “According to my own memory.” 

And Will was all too aware of how good that memory was. Which meant this was as good as, if not better than an actual photograph of what James Momund’s head looked like when Hannibal had displayed it on the streets of Paris. 

Said streets were included in the drawing, but in a lighter hand, not as clear as the subject of the piece. It still set the scene wonderfully and the image of that night in Will’s head solidified to something resembling the clarity of his memories of Hannibal’s more recent work. 

He looked at how many pages were remaining. There weren’t very many, but there was still quite a few. “Are all of these…?”

”Why don’t you check and find out?” Hannibal suggested. 

Will flipped the page eagerly. 

Next was _James Momund (body)_ and Will had to put the book down on his lap because his hands had begun shaking. He didn’t spend as much as time on this one. He had more to see and he could always come back to this book and these pages and these beautiful drawings later. 

After Momund were the five soldiers, each with their own page depicting their dead bodies and Will admired the rendering of the messy cuts on _Vladis Grutas_ , some clearly the letter ‘m', others looking more like vague squiggles, presumably from his thrashing around. 

Then came the recreations of Il Monstro. _Paolo Pesci as St. Sebastian by Boticelli_ didn’t really resemble him which was both pleasing and not. Will leaned in close to _Fatima Achard as Madonna with the Long Neck by Parmigianino_ to see the faint stitches on her neck to hide the way it had been lengthened to fit the piece it was imitating. 

And after _Madonna_ was…Will. Will astride Tattoo, bloody fist raised for a other hit, a smile that could only be called feral on his face. 

Will was thrown back into that moment, the smell of iron and salt, the ache in his knuckles, the feeling of satisfaction and _life_ like he’d never felt before. 

His breaths were coming fast. 

Next was another of Will, in the butchering room of Hannibal’s Florence hidey-hole, standing transfixed by the heart he held. The Will on the page almost seemed to glow and the Will that beheld it _felt_ like he was glowing. With the love he had for the man next to him and the love that poured from the page and into his body. 

There might be tears in his eyes. He wasn’t too sure. 

The last of the 15 pages, showed something different. It was more of a sketch than a drawing and it didn’t have a background. It was a girl that Will didn’t immediately recognize, smiling in a way that betrayed her youth and innocence. 

In the corner was a single word. 

_Mischa._

”I thought you might like to see her,” Hannibal said, voice low. 

”Thank you,” said Will, equally quiet. “She’s even prettier than I imagined.” 

Hannibal nodded once. Will locked the book again and put it aside. He pulled Hannibal in for a kiss, unable to help himself, hoping Hannibal could make sense of all the emotions in it that Will himself couldn’t even begin to comprehend. 

”I love you,” Will said. 

Hannibal smiled against his lips. “And I love you.” 

Will sat back, sliding his hand down Hannibal’s arm. “Starting to question my own gift choices, but do you wanna open yours?” 

”I do,” said Hannibal, eyes on the boxes piled on the coffee table. “Which one should I open first?” 

”The cream one,” Will answered, fingers twisting and untwisting together. “Careful, it’s fragile.” 

Hannibal picked up the largest box and carefully peeled the wrapper away, setting it aside. The dark wood box revealed was plain but handsomely made. Hannibal smiled as he looked inside. Will played with his sleeves while Hannibal ran a careful hand over everything. 

”A 19 piece English tea set,” said Hannibal, “complete with a slop bowl, truly a classic.” 

Will chewed his lip. “Yeah, the lady said it was hand painted bone china, probably from the 19th century, but she wasn’t sure.” 

”Forget-me-nots,” Hannibal commented. “Beautiful and sweet. Said to symbolize true, undying love and a connection that lasts a lifetime.” 

”Knew you’d like it.” Will smiled. “I found those first and it led to the other two.” 

”You have a very good eye, darling,” said Hannibal, carefully putting the box back on the table. “Which one next?” 

”The green one.” 

That one wasn’t too inspired, just a sketchbook and pack of pencils, the exact same as the ones elegantly scattered around their house since Will didn’t wanna risk getting something Hannibal didn’t like working with. 

”I will admit, I’m a bit confused,” Hannibal said. “You implied a connection between these gifts and I’m not quite seeing it.” 

Oh, hello, the nerves were back. Will wound the tie of his dressing gown around his fingers. “There’s still the last one.” 

”How could I forget?” 

Will was fidgeting still as Hannibal moved on to the blue wrapped gift. He _knew_ Hannibal wasn’t moving slower, but it _felt_ like it and it was unbearable. He bit his cheek. 

Hannibal peeled back a layer of tissue and lifted out a pale blue nightie, mostly see through, with a lace pattern on the bottom, echoing the flowers painted on the tea set. Will knew that still in the box would be a pair of thigh high with the same color and style of lace at the tops. 

Will swallowed and summoned up some bravado from who knew where. “How about you help me get those on and I make some tea while you figure out how you wanna draw me?” 

”Mano meilė,” Hannibal sighed and it was just the boost Will needed. 

He stood and shrugged the dressing gown off, revealing the underwear that completed the set, before getting on his knees in front of Hannibal. He put his hands on Hannibal’s thighs. And took a deep breath. 

”I’m yours, Hannibal,” he said. “Yours to have and do what you want with. Have been even before I knew it, even before I thought I wanted it. And I always will be, no matter what may happen, I’m yours. So, stop thinking I’m going to leave. Stop watching me like you’re terrified that if you look away I’ll disappear. Stop wondering if I don’t want to be exactly where I am. Stop doubting me when I say I love you. Because I do. So much that it hurts and I love that, too. I’m yours, Hannibal. All yours. Always. 

Hannibal took in a breath that was almost shaky and cupped Will’s cheek with a hand that was _definitely_ shaking. “Can you truly blame me for these doubting voices of mine when it feels as if I’ve been handed something too good to be real?” 

Will tilted his face into Hannibal’s touch. “I guess not. But this is real, my wonderful monster. I guess I’ll just have to convince you of that. Starting now. However you want me, Hannibal. No ‘just be comfortable’, tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything and everything.” 

”You’re only making things feel more like a dream, my love,” said Hannibal. 

Will nipped his wrist. “Stop.” 

Hannibal laughed. “As you wish.” 

Will smiled back and got to his feet. “Are you gonna get those on me or what?” 

Hannibal leaned forward to kiss his stomach. “My apologies for keeping you waiting, caro mio.” 

Hannibal got him into the nightie and knelt down to do the thigh highs. Each time one was put in place, Will’s thighs were thoroughly kissed and caressed. 

Will pushed him away, face flushed and cock twitching. “I have to go make tea, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal snuck in another kiss, right on the crease of his thigh before settling back. “Very well, then.” 

Will picked up the box with the tea set and started for the kitchen. “I promise I know what I’m doing.” 

”I would enjoy anything from you, my love,” Hannibal responded. 

”You shouldn’t,” Will retorted. 

”Why shouldn’t I?” 

”It encourages mediocrity,” Will explained. 

”It boosts esteem and encourages improvement,” Hannibal argued. 

”You’re so certain that’s how it’s gonna work on me,” said Will. 

”I would imagine our spending so much time together affords me some small insight into the way your mind works,” said Hannibal. “I would never presume to completely know all the fascinating details of your mind, but I would like to think I’ve at least scratched the surface.” 

Will glanced at him, finding Hannibal’s eyes far away. Maybe it was Will’s earlier words, but there was something like vulnerability hiding underneath Hannibal’s casual tone. 

He hid a smile. “You know me better than I do, Hannibal. Why do you think I’m so willing to put myself in your hands?” 

Hannibal didn’t answer. But that fact as well as the way he conspicuously didn’t look at Will was answer in itself. 

Will hid another smile and kept working on the tea. He followed the incredibly thorough instructions the young man from the tea shop had given him while Hannibal began moving around. 

Will placed everything on the tray that came with the set bearing the same carefully painted forget-me-nots and fine gold details. Only one cup since Will doubted he’d be able to drink. 

He carried the tray to the rearranged living room. The coffee table had been pushed out of the way and a mirror taken from the wall to be leaned against an armchair. 

”Where do you want this?” Will asked. 

A shiver went through him when Hannibal slowly, _slowly_ dragged his eyes up, then down Will’s body. He stepped away from the mirror to sit on a corner of the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Right here if you don’t mind.” 

Will put the tray down, overly conscious of the mirror behind him, he was beginning to suspect where this might be going. He told his cock to calm down. 

”And me?” 

Hannibal parted his knees and dropped a pillow between his feet. “Kneel for me again, please.” 

Will shivered once more and did as he was told, sinking onto his knees on the cushion, putting his hands back on Hannibal’s thighs. 

Hannibal sighed. Cupped Will’s neck. ”You’re stunning, darling.” 

Will flushed. “Thanks,” he mumbled, knowing Hannibal wanted him to say it, to acknowledge the compliment. 

Hannibal picked up the blue ribbon Will had left on the couch earlier. “It matches so well, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Without even needing to think about it, Will tipped his chin up, baring his throat. He heard the way Hannibal’s breath caught even as he put the ribbon around Will’s throat and tied it into a neat bow, right above the bite mark that Will so loved. It was just a bit too snug, which Will knew must have been done on purpose, but he said nothing about it. 

It felt good. 

Hannibal glanced up at the mirror, positioned behind Will and to the right, then back down. 

”Shuffle back a little and bend forward,” Hannibal ordered. “Put your left arm on the couch, balance your right hand on the floor. Arch your back and turn your hips slightly: move your right knee forward and your left back.” 

Will followed each command, helped by Hannibal’s hands. The words were on the curt side, but instead of bothering, they warmed him. Fire churned in Will’s gut. 

He sucked in a breath when Hannibal undid his pants and took out his cock. With a hand on the back of Will’s head, he slipped the partially hard length into Will’s mouth. 

”No sucking, licking or swallowing, just hold it,” Hannibal said. Will nodded as best he could and was rewarded by a quick pet through his curls. That same hand led Will to rest his head on Hannibal’s hip. Hannibal’s cock was a warm weight on his tongue that he had to actively resist sucking on. He pulled his mind away from past memories of blowjobs and the delicious feeling of Hannibal’s length and girth fucking in and out of his gagging throat…

Will whimpered. He worried that his cock was leaking already. 

”Don’t get too worked up,” Hannibal warned, amused. “I promise to be as quick as I can be, but it will still be quite some time before I can give you what you want, my love.” 

He smacked Hannibal’s ankle. _This is your fault._

”Is it?” said Hannibal, pouring himself some tea. “You gave this to me, darling, you asked for this. If you truly wish to end this, you know what you need to say.” 

Will, tellingly, said nothing. 

Hannibal took a sip of the tea. “Black tea with cinnamon, cloves and orange. A very good selection made very well. And I’m not just saying that.” 

Will tapped Hannibal’s ankle. _Can we get started, please?_

”Understood, I’ll begin.” 

The cup clinked onto its saucer and Will heard the sketchbook open. There was the scratch of graphite on paper. Will settled in for a long morning. 

The position he was in wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. His knees, back and shoulders were already beginning to ache and drool was slipping out of his mouth and down Hannibal’s cock to his pubic hair—Hannibal had, after all, told him not to swallow. 

Despite that it was oddly soothing. He focused on Hannibal’s warmth, the sound of pencils, the crackle of the fire, the occasional clink of china, the minute movements of Hannibal’s body. 

He would’ve said he was lightheaded, but it wasn’t quite that. The aches of his body were present, but not imposing. He was firmly in his head with Hannibal keeping him in place. 

As he always did. 

He let his eyes fall half-shut, the world fading into blurry colors and soft sounds. Will lost—well, more like _let go_ of his tracking time. He let the seconds and minutes and maybe even hours and days float past him without notice or care. 

He became slightly more aware of things whenever Hannibal ran a hand through Will’s hair, both reassuring him and checking on him. Will would respond with a low hum and Hannibal would pet him again before returning to what he was doing and Will went back to the floaty place. 

Despite the cock in his mouth, Will managed a smile. 

  


Will was brought back to the surface by Hannibal tugging softly on his hair. He blinked his eyes as if waking up and made a noise of complaint as he was eased off of Hannibal’s cock. 

”You seem to have enjoyed yourself, mano širdis,” said Hannibal. 

”Yeah,” Will mumbled. 

Hannibal seemed amused. Will thought that was a good thing. “Would you like me to fuck you, darling?” 

”Yeah,” Will repeated, nuzzling Hannibal’s palm. “Please, fuck me, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal’s hand tightened in his curls. “Give me your underwear.” 

Will got the lacy thing off (without standing because Hannibal hadn’t said he could). He put it in Hannibal’s offered hand. Watched as it was looped around Hannibal’s wrist. He shivered. 

Hannibal grabbed Will’s hand. He got a familiar tube from somewhere and poured lube onto Will’s fingers. 

”Could you prep yourself for me, please?” said Hannibal. 

”Okay.” 

Will reached behind himself, spread his legs and rubbed around his hole, still a bit loose from the previous night when Hannibal had had him after getting home from the presentation and taking care of Pazzi. He pushed a finger in, following immediately with a second. 

”Lovely,” Hannibal breathed. 

Will focused on him. His eyes were directed behind Will. 

He was looking at the mirror. 

Will shuddered at the thought. He balanced a shoulder on Hannibal’s thigh and used his freed hand to pull on one of his cheeks and give Hannibal a better view. 

”Thank you, caro mio.” 

Hannibal shifted Will to rub his hardening cock against Will’s face. Will licked at it and rose up to swallow it down. He choked when Hannibal thrust in. 

Instead of pulling back, he readjusted to take it better. Hannibal fisted his hands in Will’s hair and fucked his cock past his lips. Will groaned. 

”You’re so very good to me, Will,” said Hannibal, moving Will’s head in time with his thrusts. His eyes flickered between Will’s face and the mirror. Will shoved two more fingers in. 

He sucked and swallowed around Hannibal’s dick, breathing when the opportunity presented itself. His fingers just barely brushed against his prostate and he shook. Tears blurred his vision from the abuse being dealt to his throat. 

A thumb brushed his cheek. Hannibal brought the tear it caught to his lips and he licked it off. He sighed. He pushed the tray to the other side of the couch and the drawing materials onto a side table. “Up.” 

_Oh, God, yes._

Will pulled his fingers out and stood. Before he could straddle Hannibal, he was turned around and pulled onto Hannibal’s lap. Hands spread Will’s thighs over Hannibal’s. One moved to cup Will’s cheek. 

”Look at yourself, darling,” Hannibal ordered. 

The raising of Will’s eyes was a automatic response to the command. They landed on the mirror. 

He saw himself: flushed all over, hard cock tenting the nightie, thighs shiny with slick and patted wide. He saw Hannibal with that beloved hungry look, hands possessive and adoring on Will’s body. 

”You’re beautiful,” Hannibal said. 

Will’s flush deepened. “Please.” 

”Tell me what you want, caro mio.” 

”Fill me, Hannibal, please.” 

Hannibal kissed his shoulder. “As you wish.” 

Will leaned forward, hands on the edge of the couch as Hannibal positioned his cock. He forced Will to go slow, making him feel every single fucking _centimeter_ stretching his rim and filling his hole. 

It was glorious. 

It was awful. 

Will loved it. 

He was shaking and gasping once he had it all in him, the _fullness_ something he’d never tire of. 

”I love you,” Will panted. 

Hannibal kissed his sweaty neck. “And I love you.” 

Hannibal touched him, hands running over his thighs and stomach and chest, but never going too near where Will needed him. 

Will whined and tried to rise up. Whined even more when Hannibal wouldn’t let him. _”Hannibal…”_

”Patience, patience,” Hannibal said. He pulled one of Will’s hands up and sucked on two of Will’s fingers. Will squirmed, clenching around Hannibal’s cock. 

Hannibal put Will’s wet fingers on his nipple, over the nightie. “Play.” 

Will obediently rubbed and tugged on his nipple, hips bouncing in increments on Hannibal’s cock. He glanced at the mirror. There was a wet spot on his nipple and on his cock. He looked away. 

”Give me your other hand,” said Hannibal. 

Two new fingers disappeared past Hannibal’s lips. Will’s eyes were fixed on the reflection of it. Hannibal opened his mouth, showing his tongue rubbing around and between Will’s fingers, saliva dripping down Will’s hand. 

”Oh, my God, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal nipped his fingers and let his hand go. Will dropped it to his other nipple without needing to be prompted. He cried out as he squeezed and tugged. 

”Beautiful,” Hannibal breathed against his neck. Will shivered. 

Hannibal lifted the nightie off Will’s dripping cock. He wrapped a hand around it and Will helplessly arched into the touch, needing more. Hannibal’s other hand was on Will’s hip, helping him move. 

Will moaned. He rocked himself; down onto the thick cock filling him and up into Hannibal’s fist, the smooth flooring and his covered feet weren’t helping. He kept slipping and scrabbling for purchase, unable to go as hard or fast as he wanted. 

”You’re struggling so much, darling,” said Hannibal. 

”I can’t—” Will choked out. “The socks—"

Hannibal slid his hands down Will’s thighs, Will near sobbing as his cock was released, and slipped them into the thigh highs, lightly scratching the softer insides of Will’s thighs. Will squeezed his hole, hands shaking on his nipples. 

”Put your feet up on the couch, then,” Hannibal suggested. 

It didn’t occur to Will to use his hands so Hannibal had to steady him as he got his legs up, knees on either side of Hannibal’s, ankles by their hips. He moaned as he finally got the leverage he needed to really bounce on Hannibal’s cock. 

”Very good,” Hannibal growled. He thrust up to meet Will’s ass, teeth on Will’s shoulder. “Reach your arms behind my head, my love.” 

Will obeyed, releasing his stiff, wet nipples and interlocking his fingers behind Hannibal. He cried out, the change in angle making it so the head of Hannibal’s cock kept brushing against his prostate. 

”You’re breathtaking,” said Hannibal. “Look at yourself, caro mio.” 

Will resisted the urge to obey and shook his head. 

”That wasn’t a suggestion.” 

Hannibal grabbed him by the jaw and turned his face to the mirror. Will whined. He looked. 

He was even more flushed now, pink on every inch of exposed skin. His nipples peaked under the wet spots on his chest. His painfully hard, precome slicked cock was keeping the nightie up and Will couldn’t stop a groan at what it uncovered. 

He could see his rim red and stretched around Hannibal’s glistening length. He watched the way it dragged as he rose up, the way it eagerly gave in when he sunk down. His legs shook, he struggled. 

”I’m close,” Will managed despite the hand still on his jaw. “Hannibal, I’m close, can I—can I come, please? Please, Hannibal, please—” 

Hannibal grabbed his cock again and started stroking. Will writhed, shouting. 

”Don’t hold back, mano širdis." 

Will’s legs gave out. He collapsed onto Hannibal, twitching his hips and clenching his hole. He tugged on Hannibal’s hair and clawed at his neck as Hannibal kept fucking into him and pulling on his cock. His other hand slid down to Will’s neck, looping the ribbon around a finger and tugging until Will gasped. His eyes were still fixed on Hannibal’s cock. 

”Hannibal,” he choked out. “Hannibal, I love you.” 

”Come for me,” Hannibal growled. “Be good and come for me, my dear.” 

The hand on his cock moved to squeeze his balls and Will came, head thrown back on Hannibal’s shoulder, screaming. 

”Well done, darling,” Hannibal praised. He wrapped his arms around Will’s waist, keeping him still, his thrusts short and hard. He was grunting and panting against Will’s hair, eyes on the mirror. Come was splashed all over the nightie. 

Will turned his head and kissed and sucked on Hannibal’s neck, wanting a visible mark on him, too. His head was doing that warm, floaty thing again. 

”Come in me, please,” Will murmured. “I want your come inside of me, Hannibal. Pretty please?” 

Hannibal shuddered. “You _ruin_ me, caro mio.” 

Will laughed, weakly. “Good.” 

”Devilish creature.” 

” _Your_ devilish creature.” 

_”Mine.”_

Hannibal’s arms tightened, hips stuttering until he buried himself inside Will. Warmth filled Will’s hole, making him whimper and squirm. 

Hannibal was muttering something in Italian. Something sappy, probably. Will kissed his cheek. 

He lifted himself off Hannibal’s cock. He stared at his gaping, red hole, trickling come that dripped onto Hannibal. He reached down to scoop up and suck it off his finger. Hannibal had been watching. Will smiled at him through the mirror, finger still in his mouth. 

”Feed me?” 

The monster purred. “As you wish, my love.” 

Hannibal fed him his come. Starting with what had dripped out, then poking his fingers into Will’s sore hole to scoop out what remained. 

Will eagerly swallowed down each drop, playing with Hannibal’s hair and stroking one of his arms. He liked the warm, floaty feeling. He hoped he could feel it more often. 

”That’s all of it,” said Hannibal. 

Will hummed. He let Hannibal’s fingers slip out of his mouth. “Thank you, that was delicious.” 

Hannibal stroked Will’s thighs. “I’m very happy you enjoyed yourself. I do think I should get you one more gift. To make things even.” 

Instead of an immediate denial, Will thought about it. “Can I make a request?” 

”Tell me anything thing you want, mano širdis,” Hannibal said. 

Will turned around, he wanted to be looking at Hannibal when he spoke. 

”When we get back to the States,” said Will. “I want to see more of your art.” 

Hannibal’s eyes went dark and hot. “That I can do.” 

Will smiled, wide and ecstatic, and kissed him. The kiss went on and on, both of them luxuriating in the other being there. 

Will was _happy_. In a way he’d never even dreamed of being. And he owed it all to the man holding him like something precious. 

”I love you.” 

”And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact:
> 
> The rock-paper-scissors bit was me actually playing rock-paper-scissors with my sister because I couldn't think of what they would throw out.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something short to help Will get back into the swing of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your usual weird notes:
> 
> We hit 200 bookmarks 20k hits and very nearly 900 kudos?? I— Thank you all so much for your support and the sweet, sweet gift of validation 🥺🥺 it truly means a lot to me, love y'all 😊😊
> 
> We're creeping up on the end of this fic, my friends, but we've still got a few more chapters to go, I hope you'll stick around.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter!!

Their last week in Italy, spent in Venice, flew by in a haze of cold weather and warm bodies. There were no friendly obligations and no hunting, just the two of them spending time together being, frankly, disgustingly in love. 

There was a gondola ride and silly conversations over souvenirs and _odd_ conversations over wine by the fire at night before falling asleep; sated, exhausted and as dirty as Hannibal would allow, which was not very to not at all. 

Will missed the simple peace of it even as they walked into the airport. Longed for it as the plane took off. _Ached_ for it as they touched down on US soil.

He covered his yawn with a hand as he shifted to get more comfortable. The clock on the Lamborghini's dash still read Italian time, not reflecting the fact that it was currently 2 a.m. on January 2nd. Despite having gotten some sleep on the plane, Will just wanted to go back to sleep.

Hannibal was driving the Lamborghini, which Will hesitantly admitted was kinda wonderful. The luggage they’d amassed throughout the trip would arrive in a few hours. 

”It's only a few more minutes until we get home, darling,” said Hannibal. “Then you can sleep.” 

Will scowled. “If I sleep that means I have to go back to work sooner.” 

”I’m not quite sure that’s how that works.” 

”That’s how it _feels_ ,” Will explained. “And that’s what matters.” 

”You don’t have to return until tomorrow,” Hannibal reassured. 

Will sighed. “Hopefully, Jack won’t need me for anything just yet.” 

”Are you certain of that?” asked Hannibal. 

Will smiled and reached over to hold his hand. “For a couple days, maybe?” 

Hannibal brought his hand up for a kiss. “As you wish.” 

”Do you already have someone in mind?” said Will. 

”I was hoping you could help me with that,” Hannibal answered. 

Will’s heart skipped. “Sounds good.” 

”Would you like to watch, mon chéri? Or would you rather see only the end result?” 

Will licked his lips. “Can I think about it?” 

”Of course,” said Hannibal. “If there’s anything specific you’d like to see, please, tell me.” 

”I will.” Will’s voice was tight. He shifted again, foot hitting his little carry on bag. Pretty much the only thing in it was the red book, because he hated the idea of it being too far away from him. The key had been around his neck since he’d gotten it and he hadn’t once removed it for any reason./p>

”Good. This is for you, after all, I want to make sure it pleases you.” 

”I’d like anything you made for me,” Will replied. 

Hannibal shot him a smirk. “I seem to recall you saying such a way of thinking encourages mediocrity.” 

”Just the replay the conversation with reversed lines, then,” Will said. 

”Why would I ever wish to deprive myself of the sweetness of your voice, my love?” 

”You can still hear it in your head.” 

”Memories can never compare to reality,” Hannibal argues. 

Will’s lips ticked up. “Sap.” 

”I can’t help if I adore you, darling.” 

”Absolute sap.” 

  


=¤=

”Hannibal… _Hannibal…_ ”

Hannibal sighed against Will’s neck. Will arched it to allow him more room, hands smoothing up and down Hannibal’s back. The bite mark had faded into faint greens and barely there yellows, the places where skin had broken had healed into shiny scars. Will constantly bit back pleas for Hannibal to make it purple again, to make him bleed again. He had work tomorrow, it wouldn’t be a good idea, wouldn’t be _professional_ , but how much did that matter really? 

As if reading his mind, Hannibal sucked on his neck, down by the base where it would just barely be covered by his shirt collar. 

Will dug his nails into Hannibal’s spine as he was slowly, slowly stretched and filled with Hannibal’s cock. He’d cut his nails soon. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d claw at Hannibal and tear skin and lick blood off his fingers. 

Yeah, that sounded better. 

A moan left his lips, Hannibal leisurely rubbing his cockhead against Will’s prostate. Will tried to tilt his hips up for more, but was easily pinned down by a hand on his stomach. He scratched at Hannibal in retaliation, delighting in the way his lover shivered. 

Definitely growing his nails out. Just a little. 

”Patience, my dear.” 

Will nipped his ear. “Not all of us have the same bottomless wells of patience you do.”

”Perhaps I should teach you.” 

”No,” said Will. “Not today.” 

Will pulled Hannibal in for a kiss, licking into his mouth. He let himself relax into Hannibal’s lazy pace. 

”You feel so good,” Will sighed. 

Hannibal shuddered and kissed Will’s cheek. 

Will grinned and ducked down to suck on Hannibal’s collar bone where several hickeys already resided. Hannibal tugged on his hair, but only to hold, not stop. His thrusts sped up, just a little, though it remained gentle. 

Will whined when Hannibal got his other hand on one of Will’s nipples. His constantly laving attention on them had made them so sensitive. Sensitive to the point that a stiff wind got them hard. Hannibal enjoyed it. Will not so much. 

”You’re terrible,” Will whispered, kissing up Hannibal’s neck. 

Hannibal chuckled. “Yet, you love me.” 

Will hummed. He closed his eyes, Hannibal nuzzling his cheek. “Well, I’m not exactly sane, am I? Then again, I’d be boring if I was.” 

”You would be.” 

”Harsh,” said Will, looping a leg around Hannibal. 

”The truth often is.” Hannibal smoothed his hands down Will’s flanks. Will’s back arched. 

”I don’t think I’d be interested in you either if you were completely sane,” Will gasped out. 

Hannibal licked his nipple. “My, my, William. It’s very rude to call someone insane to their face.” 

Will planted the foot not on Hannibal’s back on the bed and rocked his hips. Hannibal didn’t stop him. Instead, he put a hand on Will’s ass and helped him move. 

Will moaned. He took a moment to catch his breath, then spoke: “How are you going to punish me, Dr. Lecter?” 

A phone rang before Hannibal could answer. 

”Ignore it,” Will snapped, clenching his hole. 

”That’s the house phone, caro mio,” Hannibal pointed out unnecessarily. “It could be important.” 

”If you actually cared about that, you’d get off of me,” said Will. 

”True.” 

”Besides, we’re technically still on vacation.” 

Hannibal laughed and upped the speed of his thrusts, putting more force into it. Will met each one, fingers on the thickest part of Hannibal’s shoulders. The angle shifted and Will let out a soft cry as his prostate was hit, pleasure curling thick and heavy in his veins. 

Hannibal leaned down. He fucked Will’s mouth with his tongue, swallowing his moans and whimpers. Will’s cock was trapped between their stomachs. Will put a hand on Hannibal’s head to keep him in place and slid his other between them to grasp his cock. 

He timed his hand to match Hannibal’s hips and tongue. His brain was blanking, he was so—

The phone started ringing again. 

Will made an annoyed noise which Hannibal gently shushed. One of Hannibal’s hands joined Will’s around his cock to keep him moving. Will dug his heel into Hannibal’s back to make him thrust harder, faster, Hannibal’s tongue keeping pace in Will’s mouth. 

Will whimpered, nails digging into Hannibal’s scalp. Hannibal’s hand was almost too tight on his cock, exactly how Will _loved_ it. He slid his tongue against Hannibal’s, drool dripping down his cheeks and chin. Hannibal bottomed out inside him and grinded his hips on Will’s ass. 

Will clenched and squeezed to push Hannibal closer to the edge they were both racing towards. Hannibal felt so fucking good inside him. 

The phone stopped screaming. Two seconds later, it started again. 

They both sighed as their orgasms eluded them once more. 

”I think maybe we should answer that,” Will panted. 

”I’m not quite willing to relinquish you, darling,” said Hannibal, punctuated with a hard thrust that had Will gasping. 

”Nev–never said you had to,” Will replied. “You just need to grab the phone.” 

”Brilliant idea, my love.” 

Hannibal got off of him, Will wincing at the immediate empty feeling. He kept his legs splayed open as Hannibal exited their bedroom, still naked, to fetch the hall phone. Will stroked his cock while he waited. 

Hannibal returned quickly, phone pressed to his ear. He met Will’s eyes. “Of course, Jack, just give me a moment to get back upstairs.” 

Will scowled. Of course. 

Hannibal sat, leaning against the headboard. He gestured to his still hard cock with an expectant look and Will flushed even as he obeyed. 

He put his hands on Hannibal’s shoulder for balance and straddled his thighs. He reached underneath him to steady Hannibal’s cock before lowering himself onto it with a shudder. Hannibal’s idle conversation with Jack went unaffected. 

After a deep breath, Will nodded and held his hand out for the phone. 

”Here’s Will,” said Hannibal and handed it over. 

Will held it up to his ear, jumping a little when Hannibal gripped his hips. “Jack?” 

_”Will,”_ Jack said. _”Good to hear you’re back in the States.”_

”Yeah, got back just a few hours ago,” Will replied, stretching his neck to allow Hannibal’s kisses. 

_”Well, get ready for some more travelling, there’s something I need you to look at.”_

Will sighed. “Where is it?” 

Jack rattled off where he had to go, saying he needed to be quick. 

”All right, see you there.” Will gave the phone back to Hannibal who dropped into the nightstand drawer before shutting it. He firmed up his hold on Will’s hips and started directing him to bounce. Will hummed. 

”Come with me to the scene?” Will asked, scratching at Hannibal’s neck. 

”Do you wish me to?” said Hannibal and licked Will’s ear. 

Will’s eyes fluttered shut as Hannibal moved a hand to his cock. “Dr. Lecter, why in the world would I not?” 

”Then, of course I will.” 

Will was tumbled on his back, Hannibal fucking into him hard. He threw his head back and screamed. 

  


=¤=

Will approached Jack with a slight limp, hand in Hannibal’s. Jack hadn’t noticed them yet, focused on the bodies at his feet. Will saw a pair of men being interviewed, obviously shaken. 

”Jack,” Will called. 

Jack looked up. “Will. Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Good morning, Jack. What happened here?” 

”Those men came to this river because of some complaints made by the locals and found these,” Jack said, gesturing to the four bloated bodies on sheets below them. “There’s at least one more coming up.” 

Will crouched down, taking his leather and fleece gloves off to snap on latex ones. He tapped a nail against the odd shell covering the bodies, finding them harder than expected. 

”Some kind of resin,” Jack explained, “to preserve the bodies.” 

”One of them's actually rotting from the inside out,” Beverly added. “The rest looked embalmed.” 

”Were they injected with silicone?” asked Hannibal. 

Will looked at the neck of the body in front of him while Beverly did the same to another. They exchanged a look and Beverly answered: “They were injected with something.” 

Will kept poking at the bodies as Hannibal explained something about silicone being injected into animals to help regain their shape when being turned into models. 

”These are the failures,” Will mused. “They were discarded.” 

”Is there something wrong with them?” said Hannibal. 

”In the eyes of whoever threw them away, yes,” Will answered. 

”So, we're gonna go looking for their successes?” said Jack. 

Will pushed up to his feet. “Yeah. And if I were you, I wouldn’t be surprised to find there’s much, much more of those.” 

Below the bridge, a voice called out that they’d found another body. Jack let a slow breath. 

”Great.” Jack turned back to Will. “Are you going to give me your new number or what?” 

  


=¤=

Will leaned on an unused table as Jack’s team tried to figure out the best way to get through the resin for an autopsy. Hannibal was somewhere in the building getting coffee. 

”How bad an idea would it be take a hammer and just…” Price trailed off, miming hitting the body they were currently focused on. In total, they’d found six in the river. 

”Pretty bad, I think,” Zeller said. 

”Saw,” Beverly insisted. “I’m telling you, a saw's our best bet.” 

Price tapped a knuckle on the body’s solidly encased chest. “I think you might be right about that.” 

”Okay, where did you put it?” Zeller asked. 

”What?” Price responded. “Didn’t you put it away last?” 

"No, you did.” 

”I don’t remember that.” 

”See, this wouldn’t be a problem if you two would just put things where they were supposed be. I marked those drawers for a reason!” Beverly exclaimed. 

The door opened. A young woman stepped in with a stack of folders in her arms. 

”Um, Agent Crawford told me to bring these here?” she said. 

That was fast. The faces of the victims had been just preserved enough to easily match. They’d sent photos ahead with instructions to look for connections as well as other matches.

What Will assumed to be the first stack of vaguely related DMV files was placed on the table he leaned on. The woman left and Will tuned out the continuing argument behind him. He plucked out the photos from each file, trying to figure out what their killer saw that they wanted to preserve. 

Hannibal returned. Will smiled in thanks as he accepted a Styrofoam cup of probably shitty coffee. He wrapped his hand around Hannibal’s, just for that brief connection. He’d always liked Hannibal hands. They were an artist’s hands. 

Art. 

Will blinked. He let go, leaving the cup in Hannibal’s hold as he turned back to the photos. He moved them around, grouping them together, thoughts dulled by a voice that wasn’t his. 

He nudged the last photo into place and found enough of himself to say: “It’s a color palette.” 

”What do you mean?” 

Will looked over his shoulder, finding Jack stepping into the room, eyes on Will. The team was looking at him, too. Zeller had managed to find the bone saw. 

”The bodies,” said Will, rubbing an eye. “They’re being used to make something.” 

Hannibal stepped closer to him to look at the photos. Will took a breath, what felt like his first in several minutes. 

”Each person is a stroke of the brush,” Hannibal said. 

Will nodded. “Our kidnapper’s probably got plenty of storage space.” 

”All these people are dead?” Jack clarified. 

Will tapped a small stack of photos he’d set apart from the rest. “I don’t think these were taken by the person that did…this, but the rest…the ones taken earliest are definitely dead, but the more recent ones, I’m not too sure.” 

”Why not?” 

”Rigor mortis,” Hannibal said. “Position the body into the proper stroke and let them die there.” 

”Coat them like that, too,” Will added. Hannibal held out the Styrofoam cup again and this time Will actually took it from him. It wasn’t as shitty as he’d expected. Leave it to Hannibal to somehow find good coffee in a government building. 

”No obvious signs of death yet,” Beverly said. 

”They didn’t drown,” Price continued. 

”Head trauma is post mortem, probably from getting banged around the river,” Zeller concluded. 

Jack asked them a few more questions, but Will got distracted by his phone vibrating. He’d gotten a text from his dog sitter, asking when he was picking up his dogs. He turned the phone towards Hannibal who nodded. 

During a lull in conversation as the team got distracted by something in the body, Hannibal had a short, quiet conversation with Jack. After that, Jack thanked them both for their time and promised to keep them updated. 

Will was sure if he’d attempted what Hannibal had, Jack would have found some reason to keep him around. Probably shove the Baron case files into his hands. 

They had lunch before going to Wolf Trap, Will a bit sleepy during the trip. He reached over to hold Hannibal’s hand. 

”Thoughts on our budding artist?” Will asked. 

”I’m curious,” said Hannibal. “I’d like to see what they’re trying to make. Don’t you?” 

Will shrugged. “Not really. There’s only one artist I’m interested in.” 

A small smile curled Hannibal’s lips. “Is that so, darling?” 

”Yeah,” Will said. “I’m hoping he releases more of his work soon.” 

Hannibal squeezed his hand. It felt more comforting than anything else and it had Will frowning. 

”I would rather not pile more work on your shoulders, my dear,” Hannibal explained. “It’s only been a day, yet you’re ready so stressed.” 

Will sighed, unable to refute that. “Fine, I guess I can wait.” 

”I promise your patience will be well rewarded.” 

”You’re hell-bent on teaching me patience aren’t you?” Will said. 

”It’s hardly a bad thing to have in moderation,” Hannibal pointed out. 

Will hummed in response. Something came to him."Wait, does this mean we're putting pantry shopping on pause, too?" 

Hannibal gave him another apologetic squeeze of the hand and Will resited the urge to petulantly pull away.

"Yes, we'll have to put your lessons on hold," said Hannibal. "These cases take so much out of you, mon cheri, I don't want to take away any rest you can have."

Will didn't much care about resting in that moment, he wanted Hannibal to show him how to butcher a whole body, but there was a faint pain in his skull and a tiredness in his limbs that argued in Hannibal's favor. He sighed, conceding.

"Can we visit Peter? It’s been a while since I saw him," he asked. 

”After we drop off the dogs?” asked Hannibal. 

Will frowned. “Peter would love to see them, but we probably won’t be allowed to let them in.” 

”Only therapy and service animals are allowed in, yes,” Hannibal agreed. 

Will huffed. “After, then.” 

Hannibal kissed his knuckles. “As you wish.” 

  


=¤=

Will and Hannibal were having lunch in Will’s office when Jack came in with news that another resin coated body had appeared dead in a different river and it had just arrived. 

Thankfully, they were just lingering over cheesecake when they were interrupted. Will shoved his last bite into his mouth, Hannibal doing it more gracefully. They packed everything into Hannibal’s bag and followed Jack to the autopsy room. 

On the table was their resin covered victim, a black man this time, unlike the fairer bodies from a couple days ago. The team was already poking at it. 

”Got a bunch of ripped stitches, this one,” Beverly commented. 

”Got a bunch of rips, period,” Price corrected, gesturing to the man’s inner thighs and face. 

”Make some room,” Jack said. 

The team backed off and Will took a spot by the man’s bruised, bloody feet, Hannibal hovering behind him. 

Will closed his eyes and let the pendulum fall. 

  


A few moments later, Will opened his eyes, a dull ache in the back of his skull. He rubbed at his eyes. 

”What did you see?” Jack asked. 

”He wasn’t thrown away,” Will said. “He escaped. His kidnapper maybe saw him, maybe didn’t, either way, he ran. He ran, fell into the river and died. 

”How did he escape but not any of the others?” Jack inquired. 

”Look for however they keep them in place.” Will rubbed his eyes again. Hannibal stopped him with a gentle hand on his elbow. Will tucked his hands into his pockets. He brushed against the bottle of aspirin he kept with him out of force of habit, though he couldn’t take one due his doctor saying it might not be the best of ideas (said doctor was NOT Hannibal, but he agreed). “If they drug them, maybe they didn’t administer the next those in time, or this guy had some kind of immunity to it.” 

”The injections sites,” said Beverly. “This guy has them, too.” 

”Not silicone, then,” Hannibal mused. 

Will shrugged. “Could be both.” 

”So, if he jumped into the river to escape we just need to go upstream,” Zeller said. 

”That’s a lot of ground to cover when we don’t really know what we’re looking for,” said Price. 

”You need to look for corn,” Hannibal said. 

Jack stepped closer to the body. “What do you mean by that, Dr. Lecter?” 

”There’s the smell of corn on him,” Hannibal explained. “He ran through a corn field before landing in the water.” 

Jack nodded slowly. “Katz?” 

”I’ll go stare at some maps,” Beverly said, exiting the room. 

”We’ll keep playing with this guy, look for drugs,” said Price. 

”Good.” Jack turned back to Will and Hannibal. “Thank you for help, gentlemen.” 

”You’re very welcome, Jack.” Hannibal settled a hand on Will’s back, driving that foreign voice out of his head. “We wish you the best of luck.” 

  


=¤=

Will trailed behind Jack as they headed for a grain silo amidst a corn field. A few bodies had already been bagged and gently laid outside to be taken away. There were agents cutting the thick stitches keeping the bodies connected to each other. 

The property was owned by a James Gray who’d already been brought in. Will had chosen not to see him. He didn’t need to put a clearer face and voice to the presence in his head 

They stepped into the silo, Will making room for Hannibal beside him. There was an intense smell of resin from the vast amount of it in the room with faint undertones of the stench of rotting bodies. Will wrinkled his nose. He could only imagine how much Hannibal must hate it. 

”This is definitely something,” Will said. 

”You’re telling me,” Jack replied. 

”What did it look like from above?” asked Hannibal. 

Jack got a tablet from someone and tapped at it for a moment before passing it over. Will leaned in to see. 

It was an eye. A large, dead eye, with a space in the middle of the pupil where the man who’d led them here must have torn himself out. His coloring would be perfect to fill in that space. 

”An eye to look back in judgement at God,” said Hannibal. 

Will shook off the thoughts that weren’t his, mentally tugging on Hannibal. “It doesn’t see as much as that. It’s just looking. Lost.” 

”Doesn't matter what it is,” Jack interjected. “He’s done now.” 

Hannibal passed the tablet back. “I suppose you’re right.” 

Will rolled his eyes at the ground. He wanted to smack him. They’d figured out this was the place a little after leaving Quantico yesterday and Will had allowed himself to be talked into checking it out. They’d climbed to the top of the silo and seen the eye, then Gray had come in, applying more resin to his work. Will had nearly pushed Hannibal off the roof in an effort to make sure he didn’t talk to the man. Hannibal had wanted to mess with Gray's piece a little, add the maker to his work. 

Will had only managed to convince not to nearly hours later after saying he didn’t want Hannibal’s first present to him to be by Hannibal Lecter _and_. He wanted something by Hannibal Lecter _period_.

Hannibal had let it go after that. They’d then had to rush to prepare for dinner with Alana.

Thinking about it still exhausted him while warming his heart. His lover was ridiculous. 

They watched the busy room for several minutes; the agents were quick and efficient, but quiet and respectful. There was a lot of bodies. 

”I don’t believe Will and I will be of much more help to you here, Jack,” Hannibal said. 

”No; thank you for coming.” Jack agreed. “I just thought you’d wanna see this. There’s some truly nasty people out there.” 

Will slipped his hand into Hannibal’s, squeezing. “There really are. Got anything else for me, Jack?” 

Jack raised a brow. “I’ll send you the Baron files in a bit.” 

Will sighed. He shouldn’t have asked. “I’ll give them a look.” 

”Good.” 

Will and Hannibal headed out, Will concentrated on removing the threads of James Gray he hadn’t even noticed had begun winding around his mind the longer he stood in that silo. He squeezed Hannibal’s hand again. 

”What did you think of Mr. Gray’s work?” Hannibal asked. 

Will made a face. They could’ve discussed this yesterday if Hannibal’s hadn’t decided to be _ridiculous._

”Not the most uninteresting thing I’ve ever seen,” Will replied, “but there’s definitely better out there. I’m still waiting for my presents, Dr. Lecter.” 

”Let’s get home and discuss those.”

  


=¤=

”What about this one?” 

”The child of an ex-patient who terrorized my previous secretary, asking for a date while waiting for his mother.” 

”What an asshole.” 

”Are you choosing him?” 

"Let me look around a little more.” 

Will flipped through the old fashioned rolodex, shifting a little to alleviate pressure on his half hard cock. His feet were on the coffee table by his discarded laptop still open to the Bloody Baron case files Jack had sent. They still only had two victims, they hadn’t killed another after the one Will had seen Freddie write about during their vacation. Will had gotten tired of them and when he’d asked for a distraction, Hannibal had given him the rolodex and told him everyone on it was someone he found rude. 

It was, for all intents and purposes, a hit list, but Will decided against saying so. 

Will was choosing the victims for the Chesapeake Ripper’s next sounder, the materials for his extra gifts. 

He’d already chosen one: a woman Hannibal said was known for seducing (read: coercing) people into her bed. She’d apparently attempted the same with Hannibal and tried to drug him when he’d said no. Only his sense of smell had saved him. 

That choice might have been a touch vindictive. 

It had gotten him a kiss though, and it’s not as if Will cared. 

”A psychiatrist?” 

Hannibal looked at the card, chin on Will’s shoulder, arms around Will’s waist. “Dr. Yahontov. He stumbled into my hotel room during an annual conference and vomited all over the suit I’d set out for the next day.” 

"Is it the same conference you’re going to in a few days?” Will asked. 

Hannibal shook his head, nuzzling Will’s cheek. “A different one. This one will be a recap of particularly impressive papers from the previous year.” 

”No wonder you’re going.” 

”Is that a compliment, my love?” 

”No, it’s an accusation: how much did you pay them to make them pretend you belong there?” Will said. 

Hannibal bit his ear, making Will yelp before laughing and pushing him away. Hannibal smiled and refused to let go. Will allowed it. 

”How long will you be away?” said Will. 

”I’ll only be gone for the weekend,” Hannibal answered. “I have time to set up your first gift.” 

Will turned to face him, heart racing. “Really?” 

”Two days is plenty of time, darling.” Hannibal kissed him, chaste. “If you can settle on someone.” 

Will hummed and flipped to the next card. “Who’s this one?” 

”A man who very, very insistently attempted to sell me subpar wine. He—"

Will’s phone rang. 

Will sighed. He passed the rolodex to Hannibal and dug his phone out of his bag. He was starting to regret giving out his number. 

”Where am I going, Jack?”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lines directly lifted from the show in this chapter!!
> 
> Very mixed feelings about Freddie Lounds. I kinda like her chatacter if I'm being honest, but she brings up bad memories for me. Hm. All in all, though, an enjoyable character.
> 
> This chapter was originally around 8k words and I decided to split it in half.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!!

Will left his van and walked over to where Jack waited by a bloody truck cab. Hannibal hadn’t liked his not taking the Lamborghini, but listened to Will’s argument on taking risks in dubious neighborhoods.

”Well, this looks crazy.” 

”Crazier than usual?” Jack asked. 

”Call it a different sort of crazy,” Will replied. His eyes tracked a drop of blood rolling down the window. 

”There’ve been a bunch of livestock mutilations in the area,” said Jack. “This might be them escalating. I’ll give you some room to make sense of it.” 

He cleared the scene and Will took a long, deep breath. He closed his eyes, braced himself and let the pendulum fall. 

  


A minute later, he came back to the scraps of himself that remained. He rubbed at his temples to try and do something about the headache that _always_ came with doing this. 

"What do you have for me, Will?” Jack demanded. 

Will turned away from the scene as the team returned to doing their jobs. “An animal.” 

”You’re saying this is just an animal attack?” said Jack. “All the body parts are still here, nothing’s been eaten.” 

”I’m not saying it’s _just_ anything,” Will retorted. “I’m saying that’s what I’m getting: an animal.” 

Jack looked over Will’s shoulder at the truck. “Think this man was targeted?” 

Will shook his head. “This is a wrong time, wrong place kind of thing.” 

”Everything you’re telling me is making it seem like this isn’t a case for the FBI,” said Jack. 

”There’s gonna be something,” Will said. “Don’t let go of this just yet. I’ve got a gut feeling,” he added at Jack’s skeptical look. 

”I’ll take it,” said Jack. “Any insight on the Baron?” 

Will sighed. He desperately wanted to go back to cuddling on the couch with Hannibal, flipping through the rolodex and happily ignoring his work. 

”No more than what I’ve already told you,” Will said. “I have no idea why there hasn’t been any more from them since the second body.” 

”Could the Ripper have gotten to them?” Jack inquired. 

Again, Will shook his head. “If he did, he would’ve made something out of them.” _While Will watched and tried not to come in his pants._ “Maybe they’re waiting for a response from the Ripper, but I wouldn’t put any bets on that.” 

”So, they might start up again if the Ripper does?” 

” _That_ , I would be willing to put a bet on,” said Will. 

Jack let out a breath. “What about a bet on the Ripper actually making a response?” 

”I don’t know,” Will answered, going with his initial reaction when he’d first seen the news the month before. “He’s just as likely to respond as not. It’d depend on his mood when he heard about it.” 

Will just nodded. 

  


=¤=

There was a little furrow between Hannibal’s brows when Will returned home. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders from over the back of the couch, kissing his cheek and feeling the lingering shadows be banished from his mind. 

”What’s got you looking so stressed?” Will asked. 

In response, Hannibal opened the tablet on his lap and lifted it for Will to see easier. There was an email open on the screen. Will read it quickly, the corners of lips tilting down. 

”So,” said Will, "the organizers of the conference want you to arrive tomorrow for special lectures for some students?” 

”I can say no,” Hannibal said. “We have plans.” 

Will huffed a laugh. “We have plans to make plans. It’s fine, you can go, Hannibal. I know how much you wanna show off how smart you are and have your ego stroked.” 

”Is that truly all right with you, darling?” asked Hannibal. 

”Yeah.” Will let go and walked around the couch to pull Hannibal to his feet, the tablet left on the cushion. “’Sides, I’ve got a new case and you said you didn’t like making more work for me.” 

Hannibal smiled. “Very well, then. Let’s make dinner and you can help me pack.” 

”Okay.” 

”Would you like to discuss your new case?” said Hannibal. 

Will made a face. “I don’t wanna do that right now. How about you tell me about some of the other papers being presented at the conference? Is there anything you find interesting?” 

”A few, yes.” Hannibal started for the kitchen, pulling Will along. “Shall I send you links?” 

”Maybe if you make them sound _really_ interesting.” 

  


=¤=

It was early in the morning, two days after Hannibal left, just past sunrise and Will was nowhere near awake enough for…anything. He’d been too tired to make himself coffee and Will regretted it with an intensity that rivaled the heat of a desert sun at high noon. 

These bodies just couldn’t stay unreported for another two hours, huh? 

God, he missed Hannibal. 

”Another ‘animal’ attack?” Will asked as he neared Jack. 

”Looks like,” said Jack. “Two this time, a couple taking a late night walk.” 

”Same weird teeth and claws?” Will continued. 

”From what we can tell, absolutely,” Beverly answered. 

”We still can’t find matches for them,” Price added, Zeller behind him with a camera. 

”Do you think you can get anything from this?” Jack said. 

”I’m certainly gonna try,” Will replied. 

The scene was cleared and Will did what was expected of him. He didn’t get much but, thankfully, Jack wasn’t awful about it. He sat in his van for a few minutes afterwards, rubbing his temples. He’d driven plenty of times with a migraine threatening to rip his skull apart, but he knew Hannibal would disapprove, so he calmed it down first. 

Once he felt better, he drove home. He made himself coffee and breakfast, sent a photo to Hanibal and fed his dogs. His lectures were being taken care of by someone else as Jack had begun to order when Will was doing a case for him. With the amount of free time he had, he decided to pile his dogs into the van and bring them to a park. 

He had to keep them on leashes though they weren’t too much trouble. He got to a more secluded place and let them loose, throwing balls and sticks for them. 

It was as Marie released a saliva slimy ball into his hand, teeth flashing, that an idea came to him. 

He checked the time and apologized to his dogs. He gave them plenty of treats while putting their leashes back in place. He brought them all back home, made sure they were settled and jumped back in the car, a folder of pictures in the seat next to him. 

There was only a couple hours of visitation time left when Will got to Peter’s psychiatric ward. 

It was easy to get permission to talk to Peter in relative privacy. Peter was well behaved plus Will wasn’t a stranger to the staff and connected to the FBI, besides. 

He warned Peter that the pictures weren’t very pretty, but Peter agreed to help him anyway. 

While he was looking at the bite mark pictures, Will was distracted by movement in Peter’s sleeve. A mouse poked its head out and Will couldn’t stop a smile. 

Peter noticed. “That’s Kevin,” he explained, nudging the mouse into his other sleeve. “Don’t—don’t stare. They’ll take him away.” 

”Sorry,” Will said and looked at the photos. “Can you tell me what they are?” 

Peter put the pictures down and pointed to one, then the other. “Bear. Wolf.” 

Will frowned. “Can they hunt together?” 

”Not natur-naturally, I don’t think,” Peter answered. “Train them long—long enough, they hunt together, eat together.” 

”I'll keep that in mind.” Will started stuffing the photos back into their folder. “Thank you for helping and sorry if this upset you.” 

Peter shook his head. “It didn’t—didn’t upset me.” 

Will paused on the photo Peter had pointed to when saying bear before putting it with the rest. “Does a bear forget it’s a bear?” 

”Doesn’t matter.” Peter shook his head again. “Wolf won’t forget what—what the bear is. He never forgets the bear—the bear is bigger. Stronger. And would—would kill him if it needed to. Instinct makes them—makes them remember that.” 

A bigger monster. Will his a smile. “That sort of friendship can keep you on your toes.” 

”Animals have—have friendships just like we do,” said Peter. “Oldest works of art are—are half-human, half-animal drawings on…on cave walls. They figured it out thirty thousand years ago. We’re the same.” 

”A bear may not recognize its reflection, but we have to,” Will said. 

”Do we?” Peter shuffled Kevin to his other sleeve. “The more a man loses himself, tending—tending to another creature, the more he sees how—how human he is.” 

Will was glad Peter was distracted as a reflexive smile spread across his lips, the words making him think of Hannibal—though he's not sure how he feels about being the creature in this scenario. He wiped the smile away as Peter looked up. 

”I’ll remember that,” Will promised. 

”Don’t—don’t blame the animals,” Peter pleaded. “Man’s the only—only creature that kills to—to kill.” 

”I know,” said Will, fighting back another smile. “Trust me, I know.” He changed the subject. “The next time I visit, I’ll bring something for Kevin. Do mice really eat a lot of cheese?” 

That’s what they talked about for the rest of the visit. Peter stuttered less as he corrected various misconceptions about rodents. He stuttered less over all, really, proof that this place was actually helping him. Though, considering Hannibal had chosen this place for Will’s peace of mind over Peter, it wasn’t a shock. 

Will would bring some fruit during his next visit. It’d be good for both Peter and Kevin. Maybe he could find a way to convince the higher ups to let him bring a dog in. Rusty, since he was the calmest. 

He'd bring Hannibal, too. 

Just because. 

  


=¤=

Will carried his plate and a glass of wine to the parlor, setting them down by his laptop on the coffee table. He sat on the floor, back against the couch. Right on time, his laptop chimed and he smiled as he accepted the video call. 

_”Good evening, darling,”_ Hannibal greeted. 

”Hey. Having fun with the students?” said Will. 

_”They haven’t been terrible,”_ Hannibal replied. _”Have you made yourself dinner?”_

”I have pasta,” Will answered. “Found something good from the hotel yet?” 

_”How curious. I’ve ordered penne rigatte with pesto sauce and fried salmon.”_

Will raised a brow. “That sounds good.” 

Hannibal shook his head. _”There’s far too much oil and I can tell it’s the cheap sort.”_

Will laughed. “Well, two more days and you can make your own meals again. We can go get groceries together when you get home.” 

_”That sounds lovely, mon chéri,”_ said Hannibal. _”Perhaps you can look into what’s available.”_

Will licked his lips. “Should I?” 

_”It would help speed things along.”_

”Okay,” Will said, sounding a bit short of breath. Hannibal heard it and smiled, amused. 

_”You look hungry, my dear. Eat.”_

Will obeyed. Hannibal turned talk to the conference and the other psychiatrists present. Will had had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting some of them and told Hannibal about their inelegant poking at his brain. 

_”How do they compare to Frederick?”_

”Chilton’s still the worst of them all. I don’t think anyone can ever top him.” 

Will left for a moment to get one of the little cakes Hannibal had prepared for him before he left. Something citrusy tonight. 

_”Have you made any progress on your new case?”_ asked Hannibal, a glass of port in hand in lieu of dessert. 

Will hummed around his fork before sliding it out from between his lips. “Not really, there were new bodies this morning.” 

_”This is the first time you’ve spoken about this case with me.”_

”It is, isn’t it?” Will mused. “Y'know, technically, I can’t talk to you about it, anyway, since you haven’t been brought in to consult. This is an important federal investigation, Dr. Lecter.” 

Hannibal cocked his head. _”Is that going to stop you?”_

Will smiled. “The first victim was a trucker, the second and third were a couple taking a walk. Both incidents happened at night, no witnesses. It looks like an animal attack from the presence of teeth and claws, but so far we haven’t gotten any matches to animals in the area or even in the US.” 

_”And you’re certain it’s an animal?”_

”All signs are pointing that way, yes, but…” Will sighed, cutting off about her bite of cake. “It doesn’t… _feel_ like it.” 

_”Could it perhaps be a human in the guise of an animal?”_ asked Hannibal. 

Will frowned. “What, like a furry? I can’t believe you know what that is.” 

Hannibal chuckled. _”Not quite a furry, my love. A touch more lethal, I think.”_

Will narrowed his eyes at the knowing look in Hannibal’s. “You know something. Tell me.” 

_”I can tell you only as much as the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality will allow me,”_ said Hannibal. 

Will settled back against the couch, arms crossed. “Go on.” 

Hannibal took a sip of his drink before speaking. _”As I said, your calling them a furry isn’t too far off. A person who believes they’ve been born in the wrong body. Someone who thinks themselves more akin to a predatory beast than a human being. They’ve now given in to the urges of the animal inside.”_

”They don’t recognize their reflection,” Will mused. 

_”They don’t,”_ said Hannibal. 

”So, the teeth and claws don’t match anything because they’re man-made,” Will assumed. 

_”They would still need a template, however,”_ Hannibal pointed out. 

”We should be looking into people with access to animal skeletons, then.” 

Hannibal nodded once. _”I believe there’s a new exhibit on prehistoric animals in the museum. That might be a good place to start.”_

”I’ll talk to Jack about it in the morning,” said Will. “I’m kind of surprised at how much you’ve told me. I would’ve expected you to push me a bit more.” 

_”I just don’t want to make more work for you, my darling,”_ Hannibal replied. 

”Well,” Will said, leaning close to the laptop, “that and you’re as eager as I am to get back to our plans, right?” 

_”Perhaps.”_

Will laughed. “In any case, thank you very much for your help, Dr. Lecter. Is there any way I can repay you?” 

Hannibal smirked. _”Finish your cake and we’ll discuss what you can do for me, mano širdis.”_

Will dug into the remains of his cake, trying to remember which drawer the lube was in. 

  


=¤=

It had taken little effort to get Jack to check out the museum staff. 

Luckily, Will had arrived just as the team announced that they’d finally gotten something of a match for the teeth and claws. It hadn’t made much sense considering cave bears had been extinct for ages and were herbivores, besides, but Will had brought up the possibility of a human in a pneumatic suit and things had progressed. 

Randall Tier worked at the museum, putting together skeletons. He had a history of mental illness and a list of previous psychiatrists. Will had had to feign surprise at seeing Hannibal’s name on the list. He’d been Tier's third to last doctor. 

He and Jack went to the museum in the afternoon. The very first thing they saw upon entering the wing housing the pre-historic animals exhibit was a skeleton with a skull matching the picture Zeller had shown them earlier. 

A cave bear. 

”You wanted to see me?” 

They saw a dark haired man walking around the cave bear skeleton to reach them. There was an openness to his smile that made Will uneasy. There was a lot of teeth on show. 

Jack led the conversation. Will was just there to see if any bells rang in his head and the more Tier spoke, the louder the bells clanged. 

”You have a history of trouble with things inside your head, isn’t that right, Mr. Tier?” said Jack. 

Tier's shoulders drew up and Will saw him fight back a snarl. He doubted Jack saw it. 

”Is that what this is about?” Tier demanded. “You think I killed someone with a fossil?” There was a quick flash of something like longing at the last word. Tier was already itching to go out and be his real self again. 

Things ended fast after that. Tier gave away nothing that they could use against him; he insisted that he was normal, that he had been _cured._

He and Jack eventually had to leave with nothing. 

Will felt predatory eyes on his back as he walked away. He wasn’t afraid. Whatever beast Tier thought himself as, Will loved and lived with a monster. He wasn’t some weak prey animal. 

Speaking of, there was some meat he needed to check on. 

  


=¤=

Will missed the dinner time video call. He’d called Hannibal to explain (vaguely, of course, never know who’s listening) and promised to eat something and call again when he got home. 

He walked through the snowy park on his way back from scoping out a house. Taking her while she was out of the house would be best, too many cameras. Will would look into where she worked after dinner. 

”Mr. Graham!” 

_Oh, God._

Will walked faster, pride the only thing that kept him from outright running. He cursed that same pride when shoes crunched snow beside him and he caught a glimpse of red hair. 

”What are you doing out here, Mr. Graham?” asked Freddie Lounds. 

”Can’t a man just take a walk?” 

”I heard you’re in a relationship with Hannibal Lecter,” Freddie continued. “Isn’t he your doctor?” 

”He’s not and he never was,” said Will. 

”Is it true you live together?” 

”Is that any of your business?” 

”Fine,” said Freddie, surprising Will. “Let’s talk about something else.” 

She stepped in front of Will, but he just went around her. “I’d rather you just went away.” He and Hannibal could get away with killing her, right? They were smart enough to figure something out. He didn’t want to eat her, though. He was pretty sure he’d just vomit her right back out no matter how well Hannibal cooked her. 

”Can you tell me why the FBI is looking into animal attacks?” 

”No comment.” He didn’t want her to be a Ripper victim either. She didn’t deserve to be immortalized in Hannibal’s art. 

”Have you figured out what animal it is yet?” Freddie persisted. 

”Please, leave me alone, Ms. Lounds.” 

”Once you give me an answer, then sure.” 

She jumped in front of him again and this time Will stopped though not for the reason she looked so smug. 

”How are things going with the Bloody Baron?” she asked. 

”Shh,” Will snapped. What was that faint grinding noise? 

Freddie’s brows scrunched. “I’m just gonna try that again—"

”Be quiet for a second,” Will said. 

”Why?” 

”There’s—FUCK!” 

He tackled Freddie to the ground as something large sailed over their heads. It landed in a pile of snow and caught itself on a tree. The full moon lit up pieces of steel and bits of bone. 

A mechanical cave bear. 

Goddammit it. 

”Move!” He pushed Freddie to her feet. She had the survivability of a cockroach so it didn’t surprise him that she didn’t even need the order. They ran through the park, heading for the entrance. Will cursed the cold for keeping most people indoors. He hadn’t seen anyone except Freddie since he got here hours ago. 

”Don’t you have a gun?” Freddie panted. 

”It’s in my car outside the grounds,” Will replied. “Don’t you have one?” 

”In my car.” 

Will swore. He chanced a look behind them. Tier was gaining ground. He swore again. 

Another path intersected theirs ahead. He sucked in a breath. 

”Call the cops,” he ordered and turned while pushing Freddie in the opposite direction. She yelled after him, but as expected Tier ignored her in favor of chasing him down. 

He kept running, praying that help would arrive soon. He doubted that Freddie would leave him to die, but the possibility was there and he _hated_ it. 

A bit of ice had him stumbling and dropping to a knee. Will barely had time to recognize it had happened before he was pinned face down on the ground, snow cushioning his head even something collided with his jaw. Something inside him went _snap._

The pain was shelved in the back of his mind as he surged upwards, jostling Tier just enough that his next push got him off of Will. Will scrambled to his feet, chest flaring with a pain that was again shelved. He might have dislocated a rib. 

He tossed snow into the skull’s eye holes as he backed away. Tier followed him slowly, a beast waiting for the best moment to strike. 

Will sucked in as deep a breath as his rib would allow and pounced first. 

The suit wasn’t as heavy as expected or maybe that was the adrenalin talking. He managed to push Tier back a couple feet. The jaws of the skull opened and Will got his fist in to punch Tier in the nose. 

Will didn’t let up. Tier reared back with a very human cry of pain and Will shoved his fingers into the eye and nose holes to keep him in place as Will kept whaling on him. 

Will thought of Tattoo. A different person and a different scene; but the same scent of snow and blood, the same feel of fleece and leather protecting his hand from the skull he was attempting to cave in. 

That same _rush_ of life.

Claws went across the top of his thigh and he fell to his knees with a cry. He scrambled back, anticipating another tackle, but Tier only took one more groggy step forward before falling onto his side. 

Will panted, staring at the bone and metal suit, waiting for it to move, but it didn’t. 

He dragged himself closer, not bothering to hold back his whimpers. He looked for a place to feel for Tier's pulse, relieved and disappointed to find his heart still beating. 

He thought of Tattoo again. 

He eyed Tier's bruised and bloody face. He clenched his hand, abused knuckles hissing at him. Just another couple hits would take care of him, it would be considered self defense, Tier deserved it for the lives he’d taken and the marks he’d left on Will which Hannibal would _hate_ , he could get away with it, he could…

”Graham?” 

_Dammit._

Will sighed and slumped against a tree. “Here!” 

Freddie ran over, eyes on Tier, cautious. Will shook his head. “He’s out. How long until the cops get here?” 

”Five minutes,” Freddie answered. “You all right?” 

”Enough.” Will swallowed down his pride, helped by imagining Hannibal’s disappointment if he found out Will had declined help just because it came from someone he disliked. “Can you help me with my leg?” 

”Sure.” She crouched next to Will’s bleeding leg, accepting his scarf. “I’ll even be nice and not ask any questions.” 

”How nice of you.” 

”Yet.” 

”I take it back.” 

The long scarf was tied around his bleeding leg as tight as they could manage. He’d need a new scarf, coat and pants after this. Maybe the shopping would help appease Hannibal’s anger at seeing him injured. He was almost glad Hannibal wouldn’t be home until the day after tomorrow. 

He leaned a little more comfortably against the tree once his leg was dealt with. He dug his phone out of his pocket, grateful to see it hadn’t been damaged. He called Jack to tell him what had happened. 

Will put the phone down and glared over at where Freddie had apparently recovered enough to be taking photos of Tier. “Really?” 

”Really.” Freddie smirked. “Randall Tier, huh? This is the guy behind the recent ‘animal’ attacks?” 

Will sighed. “Yeah. He was interviewed today, that’s why knew he’d go after me and not you.” 

”That’s good to hear,” said Freddie and snapped a photo of Will as well. “For a second I thought you’d just abandoned me to be eaten.” 

”I’m not quite as self-serving as other people,” he replied. “By the way, you don’t have my consent to be using any photos of me.” 

”As thanks for saving my life, I won’t. Yet.” 

He'd ask Hannibal to kill her as slowly as possible. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Please, enjoy this filth❤

A couple minutes passed before a voice called out saying they were police and Freddie shouted back. The place was immediately swarmed by policemen and paramedics. Will explained the circumstances with Tier, reassuring them that his badge was in his car. They believed him easily, though, recognizing him from a TattleCrime article. Will scowled at Freddie’s smirk. 

He ended up in the hospital for stitches and to make sure the dislocated rib hadn’t messed with his lungs. He had some bloodwork done, too, in case there was anything in the claws. He needed some meds for the rib, but they had to work around the stuff he was already taking for the encephalitis. 

Alana and Jack showed up in the middle of everything: Alana for comfort, Jack to get a report. Jack asked for Will’s keys so an agent could get Will’s car home after Will accepted Alana’s offer of a ride. 

Will was reassured that Tier was well in hand and they’d deal (or try to) with Freddie. Will wouldn’t have to do any of the more formal proceedings until tomorrow. He could rest for a bit. 

Once his ribs had been cleared and his thigh stitched, Will got into Alana’s Prius wearing a too small pair of scratchy hospital pants. His bloody clothes were in a bag at his feet. He leaned back with a sigh. 

”Have you called Hannibal yet?” Alana asked. 

”Nope.” Will reached up with his bandaged hand to brush fingers over a bruise on his jaw from the rock he’d hit when Tier tackled him. “I promised to video call him tonight.” 

”Ooh, that’s gonna be fun,” said Alana. 

Will dropped his hand. “You’re telling me. Hey have you had dinner yet?” 

”I haven’t. Why?” 

Will turned pleading eyes on her as they stopped at a red light. “Wanna have dinner together and distract Hannibal for me?” 

Alana laughed. “Only because you look so sad. You’ll owe me, though.” 

”Thanks.” 

The rest of the drive went quickly, Will telling Alana a little about his and Hannibal’s vacation. At home, Will couldn’t really help much due to his leg and the slight loopiness from the pain meds, so Alana did most of the cooking. He insisted on feeding his dogs on his own, though, and on doing as much as he could. He texted Hannibal saying he’d call soon and that Alana was with him. 

He and Alana sat next to each other on one side of the table, Will's laptop in front of them. Will took a deep breath, finger hovering the call button. 

Alana patted his shoulder. “It’ll be fine.” 

”I hope so.” Will took another breath and called. 

Hannibal appeared on screen almost immediately. He gave Alana a smile before turning his gaze to Will and his face blanked, smile disappearing. His eyes flickered down to Will’s bruised knuckles. Will was glad he couldn’t see the bruised ribs and the stitches on his thigh. 

Hannibal put his glass of wine down. _”What happened?”_

Will heaved a breath and launched into the story, keeping it short for Alana’s sake. Hannibal would undoubtedly ask for more details later. Will listed his injuries, then, at Hannibal’s prompting, the meds he’d been given. 

Luckily, Hannibal (temporarily, Will was sure) let go of it after that. Conversation turned to lighter things, helped along by Alana. Will mostly stayed quiet. He felt a bit like a child that had just been scolded and was now waiting until the end of the meal for his punishment. 

Actually, put like that, it sounded kind of nice. How would Daddy punish him for fighting with the other kids and making a mess of himself?

He needed to get off this train of thought _immediately._

”Been doing some shopping?” Will asked, catching a glimpse of bags on Hannibal’s bed exposed by his leaning to the side for more wine. 

_”Gifts for you, of course,”_ Hannibal replied and Will flushed. Alana giggled into her wine. 

”I feel like I should be giving a speed warning,” Alana mused. 

”What do you mean?” said Will. 

”I’m just wondering if he’s gone shopping a bit too early,” Alana explained. 

_”In my opinion, I haven’t,”_ Hannibal said. _”In any case, I will be home on Monday.”_

”I see.” 

Will gave Alana a confused look, but she only shook her head and stood up. 

”I’m gonna go wash the dishes,” she said. “You need to stay off your leg.” 

”All right. Thank you.” 

Alana took their plates and went to the kitchen, leaving Will alone with Hannibal. He pulled the laptop closer and turned the volume down a little. 

”What was that about?” Will said. 

_”Nothing important in the current moment, darling,”_ Hannibal responded. 

Will hummed. Hannibal’s eyes went to his Will’s jaw, his own clenching. 

Will rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, you know,” he said. “The rib didn’t do anything to my lungs and I didn’t even lose enough blood to need a transfusion.” 

_”I don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, mon chéri.”_

Will raised a brow. “By someone other than you, you mean.” 

A corner of Hannibal’s lip twitched. He conceded with a nod. _”I can’t help but think I’ve caused this in some way.”_

”I’m pretty sure this would’ve happened no matter what,” Will retorted. “I’m just glad it’s over with so quickly and you definitely helped cause _that_.”

_”I suppose one could look at it as such.”_

”It frees me up for other things, you know?” Will said, innocently. 

Hannibal’s eyes darkened. _”Yes, it does. Worry not, my love, I’ll be home soon.”_

”I’m not gonna be of much help, though,” said Will. 

_”It’s more than enough for me that you see it, caro mio.”_

Will settled back into his seat, swallowing. He eyed the doorway to the kitchen; he could hear the faint clattering of plates as Alana washed. He looked back to Hannibal. 

”Has anyone over there managed to really annoy you yet?” 

  


=¤=

Will groaned as he woke up. He dragged a pillow over his head to block out the noise of the ringing phone. 

_God, what time is it even?_

He threw the pillow to the foot of the bed and rolled to his phone, remembering to be careful with his leg at the last second. He picked up the screaming device and groaned again. 

It was 4 a.m. Hadn’t Jack gotten tired of him yet? They’d barely been apart during the previous day as they finished up the Tier case, you’d think he’d have earned a single night’s sleep _at least_ , especially considering he was injured. 

”What is it, Jack?” he grumbled into the phone. 

There was no reply except the continued ringing. Oh, he hadn’t answered the call yet. He poked the green icon and repeated the question with a yawn.

_”It’s the Ripper."_

Will’s eyes shot open. “It’s too soon. Are you sure?” 

_”It's not like we’ve ever been able to figure out his timing,”_ said Jack. 

That wasn’t what Will meant. Hannibal wasn’t scheduled to be back until noon, at least, so it couldn’t possibly be the Ripper. 

_”I’m calling you to confirm whether or not it’s him.”_

”Yeah.” Will sat up carefully. “Yeah, okay, where am I going?” 

_”Not too far, assuming you’re at home,”_ said Jack. _”It’s a church in Baltimore.”_ Jack gave him the street and Will said he’d be there quick. 

He put loose sweatpants on instead of pants and grabbed one of Hannibal’s coats in lieu of his extra because he _fucking_ missed him. Even more now at the thought of someone else’s work being wrongly attributed to him. As if anyone could ever compare. 

He limped to his van, taking the same umbrella he'd been dragging around all day to use as a makeshift cane. He should’ve downed some of his pain meds. Well, too late now. 

The church, surprisingly, was only six blocks away. There was a grandiosity to it that made it understandably seem like just the Ripper’s kind of place to leave a tableau. Will thought it must be popular for weddings. And funerals. 

Stepping inside only made the confusion with his Ripper all the more understandable. 

Way at the other end of the room, leaning against the steps to the raised platform was a human heart—as in, an anatomically correct heart made out of a human being’s corpse. It was surrounded by what looked like hundreds of red origami roses with a single real one atop the heart. 

Will’s palms began sweating. 

”The front pews have been cleared so you can sit down if you like.” 

Will tore his eyes away from the tableau to see Jack approaching him. He gulped. “I might take you up on that.” 

He trudged down to the platform, umbrella clacking along. “Who found this?” 

”Someone preparing for the 5 a.m. mass,” Jack answered. 

Will nodded. Licked his lips. Focused his weight on his good leg. His eyes were locked on the tableau. 

”Any ideas on who this is?” Will asked. 

”Her head’s right there,” said Beverly. 

Will looked over, following her finger to a discarded head, placed to the side of the platform. It was a woman, older than Will with blond hair, roots just beginning to show. 

”I think she’s Amelia Chambers,” Price said. 

”How do you know that?” Zeller demanded. 

”I’ve seen her in the society pages,” Price explained. 

”Why do you even read those?” Beverly asked. 

”Well, why _not_?”

Will’s heart jumped. Jack told them to stop bickering. 

_Amelia Chambers._

He remembered that name. On a pastel yellow business card with brown letters and buttery designs. 

A business card that had been the only one he’d had a chance to pull from Hannibal’s rolodex before Tier. 

A business card belonging to his first extra present. 

_Amelia Chambers._

Will struggled to keep his breathing even. He hoped anyone who noticed would just excuse it as the strain of his injuries. 

Jack cleared the scene. Will barely waited for everyone to be gone before he closed his eyes. 

  


_Every move I make is careful but confident. Ms. Chambers is already dead and emptied of what I want from her when I bring her into this church which is a popular choice for the sacrament of matrimony._

_Her head gets in the way of my plans, so it is swiftly removed. I place it to the side for ease of identification. I don’t want to leave **him** wondering for too long._

_Her body is broken and contorted as I please and her back expertly skinned. The edges are stitched and pinned into place. I double and triple check that everything looks as it should. It wouldn’t do for this to be anything but absolutely perfect._

_There is a touch of guilt in a heart I hadn’t believed to exist until recently, but it is not for the pig under my hands. It’s for someone else. For the person I dedicate this work to. This piece is an apology—for the pain **he** feels and the fact that I do this without **him** ; a declaration—of my love, my endless, obsessive love; and a singular question._

  


In his head, with a clarity that rivaled reality, Will saw Hannibal. Between Will and the heart that hadn’t previously existed, Hannibal dropped to one knee and held a small box out to Will. 

  


Will’s eyes flew open. The headache he felt was sweet. His breaths came in thick gasps. 

”What did you see?” asked Jack. 

”Um…” Will pressed on his closed eyes, fighting back tears and the lump in his throat and the smile that threatened to split his face in two. “It’s the Ripper. It’s definitely him.” 

”Is this some sort of response to the Baron?” 

That did well in helping Will put his emotions aside for later. “No,” he growled. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No. This is just another one of his tableaux. Do we know what he took from her?” 

”You’re gonna have to wait for the autopsy like the rest of us,” Beverly said. 

”Are you all right, Will?” Jack interrupted. 

Will nodded. Paused. Shook his head once. “I think I've been standing too long.” 

”Tell me why she was chosen and you can go,” said Jack. 

Will shuddered out a breath. _Because he loves me and I said I wanted her dead._

Probably not a good answer. 

Will swallowed. “Hard to tell. This is one of those scenes where he was inspired by something else instead of what the victim did to piss him off.” 

”Is it still dedicated to his special someone?” Jack asked. 

Now, how should Will respond to that? Be a good dog to Jack? Or a good lover to his dear Ripper? 

It wasn’t even a question. He couldn’t give them anything that might in any way, shape or form help them catch the Chesapeake Ripper. 

He just _couldn’t._

”No,” said Will. “I don’t feel that here. Maybe he’s lost interest in them.” 

Jack frowned at the corpse. “Could Chambers be them?” 

Will kept his face neutral through nothing but willpower. “No. Too detached for that.” 

Jack stared at the scene a bit longer before nodding at Will. “You can go. I’ll have you updated on the missing organs as soon as possible.” 

”Thanks,” Will said. “I’ll see you later.” 

Will left, going as fast as his leg would allow. He got in his car and it took everything in him to obey traffic laws as he returned home. He near growled at a red light once. 

The Bentley was in the garage. 

Will abandoned the umbrella. He stumbled to the door, then down the hall to the light in the parlor which hadn’t been there when he left. He collapsed against the doorway, his headache and the pain in his leg competing for dominance with his rib trying to catch up. 

He lifted his head and found Hannibal in a full suit, leaning against the piano, waiting for him. Will trembled. 

”Hello, my love,” Hannibal said. 

Will tried to go to him, but his legs finally gave out halfway. Hannibal caught him. He guided Will to the floor, seating him on his lap. He tutted. 

”You really shouldn’t be running, darling, it’s not good for your injuries,” Hannibal scolded, gentle and amused. 

”Don’t care.” Will kissed him, short and fierce, licking at Hannibal’s teeth and biting his lip. He drew back and shoved his left hand against Hannibal’s chest. “Show me, please, please, show me.” 

Hannibal chuckled and pulled a tiny black box out of his pocket. Will held his breath. 

Inside was a ring, on the wide side with a single, dark reddish stone in the center, its diameter slightly bigger than the width of the ring. 

Will reached for it but Hannibal stopped him with another laugh. Will whined and Hannibal gave him a short kiss. 

”Let me do this at least somewhat properly, my dear,” said Hannibal. 

”You began this with corpse origami, Hannibal, in what universe is that proper?” Will shot back, impatient. 

Hannibal said nothing and after a few antsy seconds Will sighed. He forced himself to calm down and said: “Okay, fine, go.” 

Hannibal kissed him again, longer this time and slower, taking his time and coaxing Will into melting against him until Will almost _almost_ forgot what was happening. 

Hannibal pulled away just enough for them to properly meet eyes. Will realized the stone in the ring resembled the color of Hannibal’s irises. 

”Will you marry me, mano meilė?” 

_”Yes.”_

Hannibal had to steady Will’s trembling hand before he could get the ring on. It fit perfectly of course, settling nice and snug on Will’s ring finger. It was cool, but warmed quickly on his skin. 

The breath Will let out was as shaky as his hand. His mouth was dry as if all the moisture in his body was pooling in his eyes. 

”I love it,” Will sighed. “I love you. God, I love you so much, Hannibal.” 

Will kissed him again, arms around Hannibal’s neck. He drew Hannibal’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it with a moan. Hannibal’s hands were on his hips, careful not to apply pressure on his stitches. 

_”Hannibal…”_

”Your injuries…”

Will whined. “It’s fine, you’re a doctor.” 

”That’s not a very good argument.” 

”Don’t care.” 

Will yanked Hannibal’s tie off and dealt with his vest and shirt buttons. So many _layers._

Hannibal got Will’s sweater off much quicker. Rage flickered through his eyes when he saw the bruises littering Will’s chest. Will pulled his chin up to distract him with a kiss. 

Will finally pushed Hannibal’s jacket, vest and shirt off his shoulders. He pet over coarse hair, ring glinting merrily. 

He was laid onto the floor. Hannibal pressed butterfly kisses onto his bruises as he loosened the tie of Will’s sweatpants. He pulled them off Will’s legs and tossed them aside. He spread Will’s legs and kissed Will’s stitches before licking up Will’s cock, sucking the head into his mouth. 

Will cried out. He arched his back and his ribs screamed at him, making him drop back down. 

”Don’t move around so much, mano širdis,” said Hannibal. 

”Shut up,” said Will. 

Hannibal laughed. He bent the knee of Will’s uninjured leg, pushing it to the side. He leaned down, licked Will’s hole and Will shoved a hand into Hannibal’s hair with a shout. 

Hannibal teased the tip of his tongue past Will’s rim. Will whimpered and rocked into it. Hannibal wrapped a hand around Will’s stiff cock, gripping tight and tugging quickly making Will writhe and yank on Hannibal’s hair. His free hand was clawing at the hard wood floor. 

They should’ve moved to the couch. Too late. 

Hannibal licked at his insides, sucked on his hole and nipped at his rim. Will moaned, alternately riding Hannibal’s face and fucking into the hand around his dick. 

”Hannibal,” Will begged. “Hannibal, inside, please.” 

Hannibal hummed, sending a shudder up Will’s spine. He slipped a finger into Will’s hole next to his tongue, following it with another. He drew back, chin shiny with saliva, and spat on his fingers. 

_”God.”_

Hannibal’s fingers curled and Will jumped as they pinched his prostate. His desperate moans were silenced by Hannibal kissing him. It felt filthy to let Hannibal’s tongue in his mouth, but he allowed it, unable to resist sucking on it. 

Will blindly reached down to fumble with Hannibal’s pants, near ecstatic when he finally got his hands on Hannibal’s hard, hot cock. Hannibal bit and pulled on Will’s bottom lip as he thrust into Will’s grip and prepped his hole. 

Will tried to spread his legs and winced. “Fuck.” 

Hannibal nodded. “This way.” 

He turned Will onto his good side and bent Will’s bad leg up. Will had to huff a laugh when Hannibal’s balled up clothes were shoved under his head as a cushion. Hannibal spit on his fingers before shoving them back into Will’s body. 

Will panted and moaned as Hannibal did that and again until Will’s hole was a sloppy mess and there were four fingers in him as he returned to begging Hannibal for his cock. 

Hannibal pulled his fingers out and spit one last time on Will’s entrance, making Will shudder and gasp. _”Please, please, please…”_

Will relaxed as Hannibal began to nudge inside. Hannibal balanced himself with his hands on either side of Will’s head, careful not to put weight on him. 

Hannibal moved slowly. Too slowly. 

Will hit the floor. “ _Fuck me_ , Hannibal. Don’t you dare hold back.” 

Hannibal laughed, unaffected by Will’s glare. He adjusted his stance and finally, _finally_ forced his thick cock inside, stuffing Will full in one swift move. 

Will shouted, toes curling, hands clenching. Hannibal didn’t let him breathe, pistoning his hips, giving Will the fucking he'd asked for. 

In the position he was in, Will couldn’t move to meet his thrusts. Moans kept his mouth open, drooling onto Hannibal’s jacket. His bleary eyes focused on the ring. His engagement ring. That Hannibal had given him. Because he loved him. Wanted to marry him. 

”I love you.” The words were punched out of his body. “I love you so much, Hannibal.” 

”And I love you, mano širdis,” Hannibal panted. “Thank you— _huff_ —for enjoying my gift.” 

Will keened. He reached down (with his right hand, not his left, he wanted to keep looking at the ring, _his ring_ ) and stroked his cock. The scene reappeared in his head: Amelia Chambers, twisted and broken, her life ended for Will’s pleasure. 

”It was breathtaking.” 

Hannibal bit Will’s shoulder, cockhead ramming into Will’s prostate with each thrust. Will’s hand flew on his cock, his ass burned from the lack of proper slick and his ribs ached. 

It was amazing. 

”I’m close, Hannibal, I’m so close…”

Hannibal growled. He dug his teeth harder into the meat of Will’s shoulder and blood trickled down to Will’s neck. Will laughed. 

A hard thrust had Will coming, shouting his lover’s—his _fiancé’s_ name, his abused hole spasming around Hannibal’s dick. 

Hannibal shuddered and drew back. He lapped at Will’s wounds, wrapped his lips around the one dripping the most blood and _sucked_. He buried his cock as deep into Will’s body as he could and came. 

Will’s hole fluttered around him, milking his cock, eagerly taking in each spurt of warm sperm. Will twisted his shoulders, ignoring the flare of pain in his chest and pulled Hannibal into an iron flavored kiss. 

They calmed down, Hannibal laying behind Will, keeping his softening cock inside. He ghosted his fingers over Will’s chest. 

”How are your ribs?” Hannibal asked. 

”I need my pain meds and some ice,” Will said. “I also, however, really need you to stay right where you are.” 

Hannibal laughed. “That’s quite the conundrum.” 

He licked at the trails of blood on Will’s shoulder. Will shifted to allow him more room to do what he wanted. A smile took over his face as he again caught sight of his ring. 

”Did you take her heart?” Will inquired. 

”I did,” answered Hannibal. “Her lungs and liver were useless, too much smoking and drinking, but I have her stomach, kidneys and intestines.” 

”Sausage?” 

Hannibal nodded, lips on Will’s skin. “I had also thought to make you smoked ponce.” 

”It’s been years since I last had that,” Will told him. 

”I hope my recipe will please you.” Hannibal slid a finger through Will’s come on the floor. “I also have a pig draining in the basement for me to teach you how to butcher.” 

Will shuddered. “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

Hannibal laughed. Will shifted and hissed as the move pulled on…everything. “Okay, I think you’re gonna have to go get my meds.” 

Hannibal kissed his nape and pulled out, a gush of warm come following. He gave Will a warning and picked him up to lay him down on the couch. He brushed Will’s hair back. “Shall I prepare us breakfast afterwards?” 

”Sounds good,” said Will. 

”Very well, then.” 

Hannibal left, doing up his pants as he went. Will remained naked on the couch, the fire warming him. Unable to help himself, he lifted his hand to admire the ring. 

Looking closer, the stone was the exact same color as Hannibal’s eyes. That was probably the point, actually. It would be like Hannibal was always watching him. Creepy, maybe, to some people, but not to him. Never to him. He’d have to get Hannibal something blue. He’d do it in the afternoon. 

He brought his hand down. Kissed the ring. 

Thought of the two tableaux still waiting to be made. 

And grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact:
> 
> I was listening to music while typing and when I was at the bit where Will was admiring his ring in the middle of sex, Far Over The Misty Mountains from the Hobbit soundtrack started playing and I just thought of Will as Gollum and now that image is in your head, too.
> 
> :))
> 
> Side note: if you've fucked up your ribs, DON'T do as Will did, please. Don't strain yourself. Take care of yourselves, friends.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your usual disclaimer on things I know NOTHING about:
> 
> • psychology  
> • therapy  
> • getting an MA
> 
> :/
> 
> There are more lines in here directly lifted from the show including one of, if not not my absolute, favorite Will line.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, my friends!!

Hannibal was busy with a patient and couldn’t join him for lunch, so Will invited Alana to his office out of a desire for company. He’d just finished clearing his desk when the door opened. He looked up and saw Alana with Beverly trailing behind her.

”I’m joining you, Graham,” said Beverly. 

”Not like I can stop you,” Will replied. 

”We were talking when I got your text,” Alana explained, putting her food on the desk. 

”I don’t mind,” Will said. “I brought plenty of coffee.” 

”Aw, yeah.” Beverly dropped into a chair and slid a folder over to Will. “Sugar daddy's bougie coffee.” 

Will rolled his eyes and Alana laughed. He glanced into the folder. He nodded at Beverly and put the folder containing Amelia Chambers' autopsy aside and opened his lunch of steak and Amelia kidney pie with a side of cheese and greens salad. 

”I have a very important question to ask,” Beverly announced. She had a container of what looked like leftover pizza. 

”What?” said Will. 

Beverly pointed at him. “The Lambo in the parking lot. Is it yours?” 

Will kept his eyes on the chunk of blue cheese he was idly poking. “It might be.” 

”You have a what?” said Alana. 

”Wait, wait, I have another question!” Beverly leaned in. “Was it a Christmas present?” 

”Why is this important?” Will asked. 

”Just answer the question!” 

Will sighed. “Yes, Hannibal got me a car for Christmas.” 

Beverly danced in her seat. “Brian and Jimmy owe me 50 bucks each! Thank you, Dr. Lecter!” 

”You bet on what Will would get for Christmas?” Alana asked, laughing. Will dropped his face into his hands. 

”Jimmy bet on a yacht. Brian bet on a dog,” said Beverly.

”I hate all of you,” Will mumbled. The two women just laughed. 

Will sighed. He glared at them through his fingers, chest warm. Beverly grinned at him and caught sight of his left hand. She smacked the table and Will scrambled to catch his thermos before it tipped over. 

”And what is _that_ , young man?” she demanded. 

”What does it look like?” Will returned, laying his hand on the table. 

_”Holy shit.”_

Will laughed. He looked over at Alana who had a gentle smile on her face. Will raised a brow. “You don’t look surprised.” 

Alana nodded. “I knew it was gonna happen.” 

”He told you?” Will said, dubious. 

”Not exactly,” Alana answered. “He told me once about a shop that he thought made really good engagement rings. I recognized the bag during the video call.” 

_Even then? How long had Hannibal been planning to ask this?_

”Man works fast,” Beverly said, eyes still on the ring. “I better be invited to the wedding.” 

Will shook his head. “No wedding ceremony, I can’t handle that. Were having a reception, though, and, yes, you’re both invited. But we’re still figuring that out.” 

”I’m really happy for you two,” said Alana. 

”You’ve really struck gold, Graham,” Beverly said. “He’s struck gold with you too, though, and he better know that.” 

”Thanks.” Will smiled. 

Beverly picked up a slice of pizza. “Did he ask you the moment he got back yesterday?” 

”He did.” Will grabbed his fork again. “I got him a ring in the afternoon,” Will added, unable to stop a smile at the memory. Will had made himself very well acquainted with the _exact_ color of his eyes in the minutes before leaving the house to shop and just barely managed to find something that matched hours later. 

It was well worth it. Especially since after presenting it to Hannibal, he’d been laid out on the dining room table, getting rimmed and fingered and sucked on for what felt like hours before being allowed to come down Hannibal’s throat.

God, Will loved him. 

They ate, Beverly and Alana telling him about odd or fun things they’d seen in other receptions either personally or on TV. Will nipped at the bud any and all mention of strippers. 

Will eventually got Beverly to shut up about it by threatening to withhold his coffee. 

”If you really wanna have it outdoors, you might need to wait a couple months,” said Alana. 

”Unless you _want_ to drive people off with the cold,” Beverly pointed out. 

”Tempting,” Will admitted. 

”Hannibal would never stand to be such a bad host,” Alana said. 

Will sighed. “Yeah, I know.” 

The door opened. 

All three of them looked over. Jack stood in the doorway, brow raised. “You three busy?” 

”I haven’t looked at the autopsy report yet,” Will said. 

”That’s fine.” Jack held up his phone. “There’s a body in Delaware we need to go look at.” 

Will nodded, he and Beverly stood up. “All right. See you later, Alana.” 

”Be careful and good luck you two,” Alana said. 

”Will you drive me there in the Lambo?” Beverly asked. 

”Just this once.” 

”Yes!” 

  


=¤=

”Think it’s the Ripper?” Beverly said as they neared the house. 

”He doesn’t usually stage his scenes in houses,” Will replied. He already knew it wasn’t Hannibal. He’d promised to show Will the next butchering but that hadn’t happened yet and Hannibal wasn't the type to break a promise. 

”Maybe the Baron, then,” Beverly mused. “Their two bodies have been in their own houses. Maybe they’re pissed they haven’t gotten a reaction from the Ripper.” 

Will wrinkled his nose. “Hopefully not. I don’t wanna deal with them right now. Or ever.” 

Beverly laughed. “That tired of them?” 

”The Ripper’s enough.” 

”He your favorite?” 

”What?” 

Beverly shrugged. “You adjust to your job or it swallows you. Jimmy’s favorite is the Ripper, too.” 

”In that case,” Will said, fighting back a smile, “yeah, the Ripper’s my favorite.” 

”It’d be great to catch him one day,” Beverly sighed. 

”You don’t sound too optimistic about that,” Will noted. 

Beverly made a so-so motion with her hand. “I want to, don’t get me wrong, of course I do, but…he hasn’t given us much to work with and there’s a part of me that doubts he ever will.” 

”Yeah,” Will agreed, trying not to sound fond. “He’s a smart one.” 

”We’re just gonna have to be smarter!” Beverly declared. “We’ve got a bunch of brains working on him and he’s only got one.” 

Will bit the inside of his cheek before speaking. “Exactly. I think we’re here.” 

He parked near the house which was isolated enough that there wasn’t really anyone around beyond the people _supposed_ to be there. They exited the car, Will with a wooden walking stick from Hannibal (why he had one squirreled away in the house, he didn’t know and he didn’t particularly want to). 

”Please, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is,” Price said. 

”You and Brian owe me fifty bucks!” Beverly shouted back. 

”No, Dr. Lecter, why?” Price groaned. 

”You’re all terrible,” said Will. He gave his attention to Jack, accepting the gloves and booties someone held out. “Upstairs?”

Jack nodded. “Follow me.” 

They headed up to what Jack told him was the victim’s bedroom. She’d been found there by a friend who’d been concerned when she hadn’t shown up to class. Said friend was being interviewed outside. 

”Do you want to know if it’s the Ripper?” said Will as they neared the door. 

”I do.” 

”Got it.” 

Jack pushed the door open. Their eyes landed on the young, dead woman, on her back on the floor, her cheeks cut to form a wide, bloody smile. 

”Take your time, Will,” Jack said. 

Will nodded and stepped into the room, Jack closing the door to leave him alone with Beth LeBeau. He looked around for a moment, inputting information, then settled by the corpse. He closed his eyes. 

  


After, Will limped to the door, one hand at his temple. He couldn’t wait to be off his encephalitis meds and he could start popping aspirin like candy again. 

Hannibal definitely wouldn’t approve. 

The team came in, taking pictures and cataloguing evidence. Jack’s attention was on Will. Will shook his head. 

”Not the Ripper,” Will said. “Not…the other guy, either, obviously. The person who did this is lost, desperate, sad. They…they need help.” 

”It kinda looks like someone tried to peel her face off,” Price said. 

Will nodded. “Trying to peel back a mask. Find out what’s real.” 

Jack let out one of his not-sighs. “Thank you, Will. Sorry for having to drag you out here,” he said, glancing at the walking stick. 

”It’s fine,” Will replied. “You never know when the Ripper will drop his next piece.” 

”Just that it’ll be soon,” Jack agreed. “You can go. You don’t need to take this case.” 

Will shrugged, looking back at the body. “It’s in my head now. I don’t think I can let go so easily.” 

”I’ll give you access, but I want your focus to be on the Ripper and the Baron,” Jack ordered. 

Will bit his tongue. He was pretty sure he was only supposed to be on one case at a time, but he said nothing. He just nodded and made his goodbyes, making sure Beverly had a ride back. 

He left, mind already on the massage Hannibal had promised him. 

It was three largely uneventful days later when Will returned to Beth LeBeau's. Hannibal was driving since they’d just gotten Will’s stitches out. They’d actually gone to the hospital for it and somehow, despite the more dubious things Will had participated in (begged for), it had healed just fine. 

He'd asked to go to Beth LeBeau’s since it was a case he was actually interested in solving. For obvious reasons, he had no intention of exposing the Chesapeake Ripper and the Bloody Baron was too annoying for him to think about. LeBeau’s killer it was. 

”Why do you think you’ll find something here?” Hannibal asked as he opened Will’s door. LeBeau’s house stood dark and silent before them, lit only by the moon. 

”I don’t know,” Will answered. “Sorry for pushing back dinner.” 

”It’s no trouble, darling,” said Hannibal. “You have the keys?” 

Will twirled them around a finger. Hannibal gestured for him to lead the way, ring glinting. It made Will smile. 

The house seemed bigger for its dark emptiness. The power to it had already been cut, so Will got one of the flashlights Hannibal kept in the trunk of the Bentley and led the way. 

While going up the stairs, Hannibal’s phone chimed. Will looked over his shoulder to see him peering at the caller name. 

”It’s Alana,” Hannibal said. 

”You should answer,” Will told him. “Signal’s probably better outside.” 

”Very well.” Hannibal made to turn back. “You’ll be fine on your own?” 

”’Course.” Will squeezed the hand Hannibal held out. “I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Hannibal exited the house and Will continued to the bedroom. The floor was still stained with blood, though the room had been cleaned. The smell of iron and rot lingered. 

Will frowned. Lingered a lot, actually. 

There was a scratching sound from under the bed. The place where Will knew Beth LeBeau’s killer had laid in wait. 

He needed to stop leaving his gun in his car. 

He shifted his grip on the flashlight and crouched—

The light bedframe flew, Will dodging around the mattress that sailed towards him. He dropped the light and it rolled towards the wall. It shone just enough for him to see the female figure running to the door, glancing over her shoulder just once. 

He lunged, tripping over a blanket, but managed to catch her arm. What felt like a slimy elbow length glove slipped off her, staying in Will’s hand as she kept running. 

Will cursed. He dropped the glove, got the blanket off his foot and pushed to his feet. He rushed after whoever that was, hearing her on the stairs. By the time he was on the ground floor, the only thing he saw was the door swinging from the force she’d put into pulling it open. 

He ran out and slumped against the porch railing, leg and chest aching in protest. He spotted Hannibal a bit of a distance away by the Bentley, phone still at his ear. 

”Where did she go?” Will panted. 

Hannibal nodded to the patch of forest opposite him. “She went that way. I lost her quickly due to the lack of light.” 

Will swore again. 

”Are you all right, darling?” Hannibal asked, striding over. “What’s on your hand?” 

Will followed his gaze, seeing his palm streaked with something that made his skin glisten. It was the hand he’d caught the woman’s arm with. He shook his head. “Don’t know. It was from when I grabbed her. She was under the bed in LeBeau’s room.” 

”Evidence, then,” said Hannibal. 

”It is.” Will sighed. “I need to call Jack.” 

”Allow me.” Hannibal lifted his phone back to his ear. “Forgive me, Alana, I’ll have to call you back…Neither of us have been harmed…Perhaps we can continue our discussion over dinner?” 

Hannibal hung up and dialed Jack. He explained things with a bit of input from Will who was being careful not to rub his hand on anything. Hopefully there would be more on the glove. 

Imagine his surprise when Jack and the team arrived and they all went upstairs to find it was a sleeve of skin instead of a glove. 

Hannibal tilted his head. “Yes, I thought I smelled something odd from her.” 

Will sighed. 

  


=¤=

Will dropped himself onto the couch, nudging Hannibal’s tablet out of the way to lay his head on Hannibal’s thigh. “Georgia Madchen,” Will told him. 

”A good afternoon to you as well,” said Hannibal, petting through Will’s hair. “May I ask who that is?” 

”That’s who the DNA led to: Georgia Madchen,” Will explained. “They’re in the middle of contacting family, they’re hoping to talk to her mother tomorrow.” 

A few seconds of silence then Hannibal spoke: “Tell me again of the impressions you got from her.” 

”Her eyes were discolored,” Will began. “She’s malnourished. Jaundiced. Liver shutting down. All that sort of explains—or begins to—the skin sleeve. She can’t see faces, that’s why she tried to pull LeBeau’s face off. If she did kill LeBeau, theres a pretty big possibility that she doesn’t know it, that’s why I found her where I did: she was trying to figure out if she’d done it, trying to convince herself she hadn’t. She can’t accept the reality she’s being presented.” 

Hannibal fell quiet again, still stroking his fingers through Will’s hair. Eventually, Will tipped his head to properly look at him. “What’re you thinking of?” 

”Have you considered Cotard's syndrome?” 

”Hm?” 

”It’s a rare delusional disorder in which a person believes he or she or they are dead,” said Hannibal. “The inability to identify others is associated with Cotard’s syndrome. It’s a misfiring in the areas of the brain which recognize faces, and also in the amygdala, which adds emotion to those recognitions. Even those closest to her could seem like imposters.” 

”She reached out for help, someone she loved, someone she trusted. She felt betrayed and she became violent.” 

Hannibal nodded. “Trust is now a foreign entity to her. A shame. I find it a rather beautiful thing.” 

Will smiled and kissed the hand that cupped his cheek. “Do you trust me, Dr. Lecter?” 

”I’ve already entrusted you with everything, my love.” 

Will sighed. “I want to help her.” 

”Why is that?” asked Hannibal. 

”If she _is_ as sick—mentally and physically—as everyone thinks, then why _not_ help her?” Will replied. 

Hannibal stroked Will’s cheek with a thumb. “I’ve never treated anyone with Cotard’s before. It will be an interesting challenge.” 

”I expect you to _actually_ help her, Hannibal,” said Will, “not do whatever you did with Tier.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “I did nothing to Randall, caro mio, I simply helped him see himself.” 

Will hummed and sat up. He straddled Hannibal’s thighs and pressed their foreheads together. “Is that what you’ve done with me?” 

”Do you not see yourself better now?” Hannibal inquired. 

Will dragged his nails down Hannibal’s neck and felt him shiver. He left faint pink lines that would fade in minutes. 

”I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with you,” Will whispered. 

”Good.” 

Will placed his thumbs on the pulse points on Hannibal’s neck, smiling at the slightly too fast pace he felt. “You know the Wizard of Oz, right?” 

Hannibal tipped his head. “Are you, perhaps, thinking of the Scarecrow and the Tin Man?” 

Will nodded. “One needed a brain and the other, a heart.” 

”How apt.” 

Will pulled him into a kiss, shivering as a tongue licked at his and hands squeezed the globes of his ass. 

He pulled away with a gasp. “How long until you need to start on dinner?” 

”Twenty minutes.” 

”Perfect.” 

  


=¤=

Will shifted uncomfortably in the chair Jack had given him for the interview with Georgia’s mother. The chair itself was rather nice, Will just didn’t like being alone in a room with Jack. It made him antsy. 

”While we're waiting, there’s something I wanna ask you,” said Jack. 

Will stopped a sigh just in time. “Yes?” 

Jack put down the folder he was skimming. “It's been days since the Ripper dropped the first of his new sounder—why haven’t we seen anything from the Baron yet?” 

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe whatevers held them up for the past month is still occupying them. Maybe they’re dead.” 

”If only,” Jack said. 

”Are you really hoping they’re dead?” asked Will. 

Jack shook his head. “No, not really. I want to bring them to the justice they and their victims deserve, but if they can’t hurt anyone else…”

”Yeah, I think I get you,” Will said. Honestly, the Baron being dead would be great for everyone. No one else would die because of them; maybe Jack could calm down a little and stop demanding so much of Will; and Will wouldn’t get so irritated whenever their name was mentioned. 

Wins all around. 

A knock and someone opened the door. An agent poked their head inside. “Mrs. Madchen is here, Agent Crawford.” 

Jack nodded, straightening in his seat. “Send her in.” 

The chair was suddenly so much more uncomfortable. Will sighed through his nose. 

  


The conversation with Jocelyn, Georgia’s mother, bolstered Will’s nerve. She loved her daughter, but it was drowning in fear and guilt and pre-emptive grief. 

He still had vivid memories of his nightmares and hallucinations and, though some of those weren’t as frightening anymore, he couldn’t (refused to) imagine dealing with all that without Hannibal’s sweaters and help and love. 

He wasn’t willing to give the sweaters and love, but he could offer her Hannibal’s help. He’d seen Hannibal reading up on Cotard’s before Will left the interview. 

Georgia would be just fine with Hannibal. 

All Will had to do was find her. 

Which was why Will was back in Delaware. Logic said she wouldn’t dare linger around the place she was nearly caught but it wasn’t as if she was operating under the normal bounds of logic. 

Will wandered in the general direction Hannibal said Georgia had disappeared to the other night. The afternoon sun was bright over his head, though it was still plenty cold. He hoped Georgia was keeping warm. 

Once he was pretty deep in, enough that he couldn’t see the house, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted what Hannibal had told him to when he’d called about what he was doing. 

”It is 1:15 p.m. We are in Greenwood, Delaware. My name in Will Graham. If you can hear me, you are alive. You are alive!” 

Will kept walking. He did a loop around the house, reciting the mantra every once in a while no matter how awkward it felt, adjusting the time as needed. As Hannibal recommended, he didn’t say her name just yet. 

Close to three, he headed back to his car, a little disheartened at the lack of response. She must have heard him, though. He knew she was around here. He just had to have faith that he’d done something. 

He drove home. Alana would be joining him and Hannibal for dinner to talk to Hannibal. She was apparently considering taking someone under her wing to help with their MA and wanted Hannibal’s opinion. 

  


=¤=

”It doesn’t at all surprise me that you’ve never helped someone out like this.” 

”What do you mean by that, mon chéri?” 

”You know exactly what I mean, Dr. Lecter.” 

”How cruel.” 

Alana laughed behind her hand. Will raised a brow at her. “Are you disagreeing with me?” 

”I’m gonna choose to stay out of this, thank you very much,” Alana said. “Couples therapy isn’t my forte.” 

”Whoever shall we turn to?” asked Hannibal. 

”We’re hopeless,” Will responded with mock sadness. 

”Good luck,” Alana bid. She reached for her glass of home brewed beer and found it empty. Hannibal stood up. 

”I’ll get you another bottle as well as our dessert,” he said. 

”Thank you,” Alana said. 

Hannibal left for the kitchen with the plates emptied of the main course made from the man Hannibal had coached Will through butchering. Hannibal had to fix a few things in the end, but it had been wonderful. 

Will dragged himself out of the memory before he could fully sink in, focusing instead on the look on Alana's face that he couldn't quite decipher. Will tilted his head in question. 

”I just keep thinking you two are really good with each other,” she explained. “If I went back to this time last year, I wouldn’t recognize you.” 

This time last year, Will was drowning in too many people in his head while desperately fighting off the teeth and claws of his own violent urges. 

Now he had Hannibal who helped him stay above it all and showed him the pleasure to be found in surrendering, happily and eagerly, to those teeth and claws. 

Will smiled. “Me neither. I think that’s a good thing.” 

”It definitely is,” Alana agreed. “I’m not sure I’d recognize Hannibal either.” 

”Is he really so different?” asked Will. 

”Only around you,” Alana answered. “He’s usually so stoic, but he’s not very good or is just unwilling to hide how much he loves you.” 

”I’m betting on unwilling,” said Will and Alana laughed. 

”It’s rude to speak about someone behind their back,” Hannibal said as he returned, arms expertly piled with plate of tarts and profiteroles, Alana’s beer between fingers. 

”It’s also rude to eavesdrop, what do you say to that?” Will replied. 

”Perhaps we can agree to simply never mention these indiscretions?” 

”Deal.” 

Hannibal finished serving, pouring Alana her drink before returning to his seat. “May I ask if you already have someone in mind to be your mentee?” 

”There’s a couple that have caught my eye,” said Alana. “A Suzanne Yozora and a Matthew Brown—Dr. Brown’s nephew, remember?” 

”Go for the girl,” Will recommended. 

”Will isn’t a very big fan of Mr. Brown,” Hannibal said. 

”Why not?” 

Will shrugged. “He gives off a bad vibe.” 

A familiar look flickered through Alana’s eyes. That cool curiosity Will often saw in psychologists eyes when they saw him and realized exactly who he was. It disappeared quickly, though which was why Will liked her so much. He relaxed back into his seat. 

”I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “Suzanne comes from my alma mater, so I was hesitating. I thought I should maybe try someone from somewhere else. And—” 

There was a loud bark. 

Will frowned. “Did that come from the parlor?” 

”I believe it did,” said Hannibal. 

”I swear I got them out earlier.” Will stood up. “I’ll back in a sec.” 

He went to the parlor, surprised to find the glass doors to the backyard open, letting in a draft. Winston, Buster and Addie were crowded around the far side of a cabinet. Addie barked again and there was a faint whimper. Will saw what looked like the tip of a shoe disappear further behind the cabinet. 

There were several (seemingly) decorative knives scattered around the room. One of the scalpels Hannibal liked to use to sharpen his pencils was on an end table between Will and the cabinet. 

He edged over to it, wishing there was more light in the room. He picked the scalpel up and hid it behind his thigh. He craned his neck, squinted a little—

”Hey.” 

Georgia Madchen raised her head. Stringy, greasy hair framed her gaunt face. Discolored eyes took a moment to properly focus on him, but they tracked him well enough as Will crouched down, stealthily tossing the scalpel aside. 

”Hey,” Will repeated, crawling closer. 

She said something, her voice too low and rough with disuse for Will to make out. Thankfully, she repeated herself, louder and clearer. 

”Am I alive?” 

Will managed a smile. He held out a hand and Georgia took it, hesitant and shaky, but she took it. 

”Yeah,” he said. “You’re alive.” 

Slowly, Will turned to Winston, giving him a command he’d only just started teaching his dogs. “Get Hannibal.” 

Winston understood. He headed for the doorway, but hesitated, recognizing the boundary. Will said the command again, a little firmer, and he left. Will loosed a breath. 

He focused back on Georgia and stroked her knuckles. “It’s…” He squinted at his watch. “7:46 p.m. We’re in Baltimore, Maryland. And we’re alive. You and I: _we’re alive_.”

”Really?” 

Will nodded. “Really.” 

”Ms. Madchen, I presume.” 

The two of them turned to Hannibal. Winston was with him, and Alana though she was in the process of turning away with her phone in hand. Hannibal joined them, sitting cross legged on the floor and extending a hand. Georgia took it a little more confidently than she’d taken Will’s. 

”Are you real, too?” she asked. 

”Of course,” Hannibal answered, calm and soothing. “I am real. The floor beneath you is real. The wall behind you is real. The dog at your hip is very real.” 

Georgia lowered his eyes to Buster sniffing at her curiously. He didn’t seem as freaked out by her as Addie. 

”His name is Buster. Would you like to pet him, Georgia?” 

”Yes.” 

”Go ahead.” 

Georgia let go of Will’s hand. She reached down to pat Buster’s head, just once. It was enough for Buster to adore her, wiggling under her hand for more. 

”Will, my darling,” Hannibal whispered. “There are a few things I need you to do.” 

”Tell me.” 

Will moved slowly so as not to startle Georgia. He got Winston and Addie out, making sure to lock the doors this time. He gradually turned the lighting up and heard Hannibal pointing out random details of the room to establish how real it was. 

He went to heat up some broth for her, running into Alana in the process. Hannibal had apparently told her to call for an ambulance with very firm instructions to come quietly and not enter until told. She said she would wait by the door for them. Will thanked her. 

When Will got back with a large mug of chicken broth, Hannibal had Georgia reciting the mantra, his watch in her hands and Buster on her lap. 

Will lingered by the door after finishing everything Hannibal had told him to do. A smile curled his lips. Something warm fluttered in his chest. 

Hannibal caught his eye while Georgia was distracted by the broth. He raised a brow and mouthed: _Jack?_

Will rolled his eyes. He joined Alana in the foyer and called Jack. 

This was going to be a long night. 

  


=¤=

It was a little past 1 a.m. when Will and Hannibal settled on the couch after getting Georgia in the hospital, dealing with Jack and sending Alana off with her uneaten dessert. 

Hannibal had pulled several strings to get Georgia the best possible care. He’d stayed and comforted her as the hospital staff ran tests, cleaned her up and got her into an oxygen chamber while Will spoke to Jack, trying to convince him to leave her alone with help from Alana. 

Hannibal was now penning sessions with Georgia into his schedule. Will scooted closer and leaned against him. 

”How are you doing, darling?” Hannibal asked. 

”A little stressed,” said Will. “You?” 

”We’ve certainly had an eventful night,” said Hannibal. “However, some of your worries about Ms. Madchen have been assuaged.” 

”Yeah,” Will agreed. “Thank you again for agreeing to help her.” 

Hannibal kissed his hair. “I could never deny you anything, my love.” 

Will smiled and accepted a kiss on the lips. “I love you.” 

”And I love you,” Hannibal said. “Would you like to go to sleep?” 

Will shook his head. “I’m still pretty keyed up.” 

Hannibal thought for a moment. “Shall I get the rolodex?” 

Will’s heart jumped. “Yes, please.” 

”As you wish, mon chéri.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is a busy, busy bee 🐝🐝

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always felt kinda bad for Chilton. Much like every other character on the show, he's not exactly the nicest person, but like........he's been through a lot. Give the man a break.
> 
> I don't think cauterizing works the way I made it work in this chapter, but just call it artistic liberties🌟🌟
> 
> Also, please tell me if you see any mistakes in my writing!! I don't bite!!
> 
> Enjoy!!

The weren’t good enough words in the English language to describe how much Will hated being _near_ the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

There weren’t good enough words in _any_ language to describe how he felt _inside it_.

There _will never be_ good enough words in any future iterations of human language to describe how he felt about Frederick Chilton. 

The moment those greedy eyes landed on him, Will wanted to walk right back out the doors and call Hannibal about a change in plans: instead of Anton Masters, he had someone else in mind for his next present…

When _Will’s_ eyes landed on who stood next to Chilton, he just wished Hannibal was with him instead of in a session with Georgia. 

(He felt immediately guilty about thinking that, but not enough to stop feeling it.) 

”Who’s this?” Jack demanded. 

”The employee of mine that found the scene,” Chilton explained. “He’s already signed an NDA, of course.” 

Good God. The idea of dealing with both Chilton and Brown at once was nauseating. 

Jack nodded once. “Lead on.” 

”Right this way.” Chilton started walking and Will followed, staying behind Jack and the team—as far from Chilton and Brown as he could feasibly manage. “The news was quite a surprise, but we have protocols in place for such things,” Chilton said. 

”Not good enough for the poor nurse,” Zeller muttered. 

Chilton didn’t seem to hear. “I’ve taken measures to clear the area and keep the scene untouched.” He looked over his shoulder at Will. “I’ve heard that’s how you prefer things.” 

Will didn’t answer. He twisted his ring around his finger, trying to fight off the claustrophobia that always gripped him in places like this. 

They piled into an elevator, all of them fitting comfortably, due to it having been made to accommodate a prisoner and their guards (or patient and their orderlies). As he passed Chilton, his eyes dropped to Will’s fidgeting hands. 

”I see congratulations are in order,” Chilton said. 

”That’s none of your business.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets as the doors closed and they headed up. “You’re not invited.” 

”Dr. Lecter can be convinced.” 

”If he wants this ring to stay on my finger, he won’t be.” 

Jack cleared his throat. They stopped. Will ignored Brown’s eyes boring into the side of his head. 

The elevator dinged. 

Chilton led them down the medical wing to a door with a rather queasy looking orderly standing by it. 

"Who did you say did this?” asked Jack. 

”Dr. Abel Gideon,” said Chilton. 

”That guy who killed his wife and kid two years ago?” Beverly asked. 

”Yes, that guy.” Chilton stopped in front of the door. “Please, come in.” 

The team knew to hang back as Jack and Will entered. Chilton and Brown followed. Will chose to ignore them as he wandered around the body of the woman speared on broken poles and perforated with seemingly all the vaguely pointy objects in the room. And there were plenty. 

”How did he get here?” said Jack. 

”We thought he’d had a heart attack,” Chilton explained. 

”Why were they alone?” Jack continued. 

Chilton shifted and swallowed. “He was allowed certain liberties due to good behavior.” 

”Yeah, I can see how _good_ he is,” Will muttered. He raised his voice. “Where are her eyes?” 

Chilton gestured. “One of them is in that corner. The other…”

Brown took over. “I got here in time to see him swallow it. He didn’t put up a fight as I called for back up and we got him sedated.” 

Fun. Will straightened up and gave Jack a look. Jack nodded and turned to their interlopers. “Out.” 

”How necessary is that, exactly?” Chilton rushed to get out. “I’d prefer not to leave the scene. Responsibility, you know?” 

Will turned his back on them as he rolled his eyes. “Just be quiet,” he said. He wasn’t willing to argue or even _listen_ to them argue. 

He tuned out Chilton’s response and closed his eyes. 

It took a moment to sink into the scene, distracted as he was by the curious (the bad kind of curious) shuffling behind him and his own unwillingness to do it. He touched his ring and felt the slight weight of the key around his neck. 

The pendulum swung. 

  


His eyes snapped open. He rubbed at his temples before turning around. He looked—briefly—at Chilton. “You have a theory already, don’t you?” 

”I do,” said Chilton. 

”Tell me.” 

Jack was obviously surprised, but he gave his attention to Chilton as he waved the team in. Chilton shifted and puffed up, chin high as he spoke. 

”There’s an obvious resemblance to a previous Ripper scene: the Wound Man, his last before his two year long break,” Chilton began. “The Ripper is known to have surgical knowledge and if it weren’t for…recent events, I would say Abel Gideon _is_ the Ripper, but he obviously isn’t. However, going back to the surgical knowledge, how unreasonable is it to think they know each other? Perhaps this is Dr. Gideon’s way of asking for rescue: threaten to expose the Ripper.” 

”Interesting,” Will said. 

”Is he right?” Jack asked. 

”Absolutely not.” 

Chilton deflated. “Why not?” 

"The Ripper works alone,” Will said, which wasn’t technically a lie. He hadn’t actually _worked_ on any of the Ripper scenes yet. “He’s too smart to be telling people about what he’s doing. If Gideon knew who he was, he would’ve been killed within hours of being caught so the Ripper could protect himself. Letting Gideon live while knowing the Ripper’s identity is too much of a risk. Beyond that, this scene is…muddled.” 

”Elaborate,” said Jack. 

” _Georgia’s_ scene was clearer than this,” Will replied. “It feels like he’s not in his own head.” 

”He wouldn’t be if he’s been put here,” Jack pointed out. 

Will shook his head. “Abel Gideon is your garden variety psychopath. That’s not what this feels like, this feels like…honestly, it feels like he’s got as many people in his head as I do. Someone’s gonna have to talk to him.” 

”He's not currently allowed visitors as we re-examine his danger levels,” Chilton interjected. “Federal investigation not, it’ll have to wait.” 

”I’ll talk to your board of directors,” said Jack. Not a threat, just a statement of fact. 

Chilton’s smile was sour. “Go right ahead.” 

Jack looked back to Will. “Can we use this? Can we make it seem like Gideon _does_ know and scare the Ripper into making a mistake?” 

”He’s more likely to make carnage than a mistake.” Will moved out of the way as Zeller as snapped photos. Jack pursed his lips as if unwillingly agreeing. 

”Can I ask something?” 

Everyone looked to Brown whose eyes were fixed only on Will. Will looked away. 

”What is it?” Jack demanded. 

”The Ripper hasn’t given the Baron a response, right?” said Brown. “What makes Dr. Gideon different? Why makes you think he would definitely react to one but not the other?” 

Jack gave him a nod. “Good question.” 

Will only _just_ stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “It’s about how insulting it is. You’re making it sound like Gideon is his friend, putting him on the same level as a guy who got caught near immediately after making a scene with no art to it. You’re looking down on him and he’s too proud to allow that: he’s going to show off and that means bodies. With the other guy, it’s more like a kid throwing a tantrum in the supermarket, annoying but ignorable; giving them attention would only make things worse and it’s not like anyone is actually saying or even _thinking_ that they’re better than the Ripper. The Ripper has better things to do with his time.” _Like putting Will on his knees to warm his cock while they relaxed before bed._

”Is using Gideon really that risky?” said Jack. 

Will nodded. If Hannibal really felt insulted, Will wasn’t sure he could stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And, frankly, he was even less sure if he _wanted_ to. 

Jack took a slow breath and marched to the door. “I’m going to go talk to the board.” 

He left and Will focused on the body since it was a better choice than anything else. Beverly caught his eye and gave him a pitying look which Will responded to with a grimace. She coughed to hide a laugh. 

”I like the ‘garden variety psychopath' bit,” said Price, returning from the corner the eyeball had been flung to. 

”We seem to get a lot of them,” Will sighed. Chilton and Brown were still staring at him. He needed a shower. Or a bath with Hannibal washing his hair. 

”Are you officially classifying the Baron as a psychopath?” Zeller asked. 

Will shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. They’re definitely some kind of psychopath.” 

”What about the Ripper?” Beverly said. 

Will shrugged again. “He doesn’t really fit that, but there’s no better word.” 

”How exactly does he differ from a psychopath?” Chilton chimed in. 

Will didn’t bother answering him. He checked his watch. Beverly noticed and nudged his leg. “Got a hot date?” she whispered. 

”I might,” Will whispered back. 

She gave a low whistle. 

”Well, would you look at that,” said Price, fingers poking at wounds on the nurse’s abdomen. "She's missing some organs."

”Which ones?” Will asked. 

”Hard to tell before the autopsy, but…” Price poked a bit more. “Liver, definitely. Possibly the stomach. Maybe the pancreas or the spleen?” 

Will frowned. “The trophies taken from the Wound Man were never released, were they?” 

”We never release to the public the specifics of which organs are taken from each victim,” confirmed Zeller. “The original Wound Man might have been missing those, too, though.” 

”He was,” Will said. He’d memorized every possible detail of Hannibal’s past works. 

”Are you still sure Dr. Gideon and the Ripper don’t know each other?” Chilton said. 

”Yes, I am.” Will turned his attention to Jack re-entering the room. He gave his phone to Chilton who made a bunch of agreeing and apologetic noises to whoever was on the other side. He eventually gave the phone back and Jack nodded to Will. 

”We’re gonna go talk to Gideon. Come on,” he ordered. 

”Okay.” Will followed, an obedient dog as always. 

  


=¤=

”How much do you know about psychic driving?” 

Will sipped on some tea as he contemplated his answer. He waited for a lull in the screaming before speaking. 

”Not enough to wholly understand why you’re bringing it up.” 

”Are you sure you’re not just distracted?” 

”What are you trying to say, Dr. Lecter?” 

”Only good things, my love.” 

Will laughed. He put his cup down, it was the set he’d gotten Hannibal with a tea he’d initially been wary of, but found himself liking. He focused his attention on the reason he was up and drinking tea at 1:30 a.m. 

Anton Masters was a dark blond in his late thirties who’d scratched the Bentley as he stumbled drunk down the street to his own car which he’d then hit and killed a pregnant woman with. He’d gotten away with it three years ago because wealthy white man, but now he was being punished for it. 

He looked mostly dead already, strapped to a metal table, the crown of his head removed to expose his brain, stomach cut open in a way that resembled the cut for a C-section. His hands had been chopped off and cauterized so he wouldn’t bleed out too quickly. Hannibal was in the middle of removing his kidneys. 

Will wasn’t helping. He only wanted to watch this time. Hannibal had put a comfortable seating area in his butchering room for him. Will was looking forward to getting fucked on the plush couch before Hannibal left to make his scene. 

Will wouldn’t be joining him for that. He’d see the finished piece when Jack called. 

Was this the first time he was looking forward to a call from Jack? It might be. The call for the previous scene didn’t count since he hadn’t seen it coming. 

”You’re _very_ distracted, darling,” Hannibal commented. 

”That’s not really my fault, though, is it?” Will replied. 

”How lucky you are,” Hannibal said to Anton, “to hold mon chéri’s attention so.” 

Will laughed. “He’s only interesting because of you, Hannibal.” 

Hannibal gave him one of those smiles that Will adored. He finished removing Anton’s second kidney and put it away. “What else would you like?” 

Will opened his mouth—and was cut off by a soft plea from Anton. Hannibal dug gloved, bloody fingers into one of Anton’s cauterized wrists, speaking coldly over the resulting screams. 

”Don’t interrupt.” 

Anton petered off into sobs and whimpers. Hannibal turned to Will. “Darling?” 

”Lungs,” Will said. “Like the first piece you ever made for me: Cassie Boyle.” 

All the tension seemed to leave Hannibal’s shoulders. “As you wish.” 

Hannibal picked up the bone saw. Anton’s chest was sliced open to the dull hum of the saw and Anton’s screaming. The rib spreader was what tipped the scales. Will watched his exposed heart thud to a stop, Anton’s body going slack. 

Will’s own heart was galloping. His cock was hard. 

”What were you saying about psychic driving?” Will asked, voice rough. 

Hannibal chuckled, but didn’t comment on Will’s state. “From what you’ve said regarding your interview with Dr. Gideon and your impressions of his mind, I suspect some form of psychic driving has been performed on him.” 

Will stood, bringing a cup of tea along for Hannibal. “Go on.” 

”You yourself said it felt like the Ripper was as in his head as in yours,” said Hannibal. “It sounds as if someone has tried to convince him he _is_ the Ripper and stopped partway through. Most likely because of the real Ripper's resumption of activities.” 

”You think Chilton wanted to be able to claim that he caught the Ripper,” Will summarized. “That sounds about right.” 

”Why is Frederick you first suspect, darling?” 

Will rolled his eyes. “Aside from it very much matching his character? Despite the myriad doctors Gideon’s had, Chilton was his primary and the only one with access to restricted Ripper files.” 

”True. Though, in any case, I doubt Frederick expected Dr. Gideon to do what he has.” Hannibal nodded to the tea and Will lifted the cup to Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal’s hands were busy with Anton’s lungs. 

”Since he didn’t finish, Gideon’s trying to figure out what’s real,” Will mused. “Though, recreating a scene he’s not sure he did might only cement the idea that he _did_ do it since he now has sensations to tie to his fake memories. Maybe Chilton wasn’t completely wrong.” 

”Regarding what, caro mio?” 

Will took a sip of tea, imagining he could taste Hannibal on the rim. “His theory on why Gideon did it. Maybe he _was_ crying out to the Ripper, needing proof that it’s not him.” 

Hannibal lifted a lung out of the bloody cradle of Anton’s ribs. “Do you think the Ripper will help him?” 

”I don’t know.” Will leaned a hip on the autopsy table as Hannibal turned to put the organ away. “I guess it depends on how the FBI frames things when the news is released. It’s not like Gideon actually poses a threat.” 

”Very true.” Hannibal resumed work on the second lung, across the table from Will now. “For argument’s sake, however: what do you think it would be like if the Ripper did decide to help?” 

”Beautiful,” Will sighed. “My Ripper wouldn’t settle anything less.” 

”Are you certain you’re thinking of the Ripper and not yourself?” 

Will, childishly, stuck his tongue out at him. 

Hannibal chuckled. “Do you truly not wish to join me after this?” 

Will hook his head. “Not tonight. I’ll keep the bed warm for you when you get back.” 

”You should head up, then,” said Hannibal as he tucked Anton’s other lung beside the first. 

Will scoffed. He set down the empty cup of tea and undid the tie of his dressing gown. “I’m not going anywhere until you warm _me_ up first, Dr. Lecter.” 

”Of course,” Hannibal purred. “Allow me a moment to clean myself up.” 

”You don’t have to,” Will told him. “I like you covered in blood.” 

”Do you?” Hannibal’s eyes tracked Will as he removed his clothes and sprawled on the couch: legs spread, metal plug glinting in his hole. 

”I _really_ do.” 

”As you wish, my love.” 

  


=¤=

Will parted his lips to accept another mouthful of ham and egg topped toast, kissing Hannibal’s fingers as they retreated. After requesting to be fed, they’d settled in the parlor, Will on Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal had foregone utensils in favor of feeding Will with his own hands. He was half-hard against Will’s hip. 

Of course he got off on this: on Will relying on him, on Will deeming him good enough to submit to. Put like that, this was more indulging _Hannibal’s_ wishes than Will’s. 

But Hannibal deserved it. So, after the next bite, Will said a quiet: “Thank you, Daddy.” 

The effect was instant: Hannibal’s cock twitching and the arm around his waist going tight. Will bit his lip to stifle a laugh and Hannibal’s eyes narrowed. 

”How cruel of you,” he said, “to tease me like this when you know you have to leave soon.” 

”I don’t know that. I’m only _hoping_ it,” Will retorted. He raised his mug of coffee to his lips, eyes going to his phone on the low coffee table. 

He almost choked when the screen lit up. 

He scrambled to pick it up, putting his mug down so harshly, some coffee splashed out. He collapsed back against Hannibal, near _vibrating_. 

”It's Jack, it’s Jack!” 

” _Calm_ , darling,” Hannibal ordered, belied by amusement. 

Will turned around to straddle him, robe slipping off his shoulder to reveal purple birthmarks and nearly kicking their plate of breakfast to the floor. Hannibal steadied him and readily accepted Will’s hard kiss. 

Will played with the hair falling over Hannibal’s nape. He _loved_ the way Hannibal looked at that moment: like the cat that got the canary with a big bowl of cream for dessert and like he was so very in love with Will. 

”What is it?” Will said into the phone, trying to not let on to how much he was smiling. 

The smile disappeared almost immediately. “What?” 

The rest of Jack’s words didn’t register. Will’s blood was boiling, his nails were digging into Hannibal’s scalp, though that didn’t really register either. There was something like a growl building in his chest. It reverberated through him, making his body shake. 

Not with the anticipatory ecstasy of earlier, but with unbridled _rage_.

”I’ll be there,” he said. He didn’t know where ‘there’ was. He just knew that’s what he was supposed to say. He hung up. Stared at the phone. Contemplated—

”Throw it.” 

He flung the device over Hannibal’s shoulder. It ricocheted off the wall and hit a candelabra which tumbled off a small end table and clanged to the floor, the candlesticks breaking. The phone was cracked. Broken. Dead. 

Will was breathing heavily, but calming. He tried to match his breaths to Hannibal’s hands stroking his sides. Will put his own hands on Hannibal’s shoulders. 

” _Fucking **Baron**_.”

Hannibal shushed him, rubbing Will’s back now to pull him close. Will buried his face in his neck, breathing in Hannibal’s scent. Sandalwood and herbs and iron. 

Will squeezed Hannibal’s shoulders, feeling how stiff and tense they were. If Will was a burning fist, Hannibal was an ice cold scalpel. Hannibal wasn’t even mad about being upstaged. 

He was angry at the loss of Will’s good mood. 

Will calmed himself. Slowly and reluctantly, but he did. He melted against Hannibal and nuzzled his neck again. 

”Maybe this is a good thing,” Will whispered. 

Hannibal gently pulled one a curl. “Oh?” 

Will thought for a moment. “If theirs got called in first, then I can go to yours later. Save the best for last.” 

”I suppose that’s true.” Hannibal’s muscles were beginning to loosen up. 

”It’ll get called in soon, right?” 

”Of course.” He kissed Will’s hair. “I had thought I left in a place easy to find, but obviously not enough. I’ll keep it in mind.” 

Will sighed and kissed Hannibal’s shoulder. “My phone,” he grumbled. 

”You can use mine until I can get you a new one,” Hannibal offered. 

Will hummed. “Were _you_ paying attention to where I'm supposed to go?” 

”I was,” Hannibal confirmed. “I’ll drive you.” 

Will raised his head, the start of a smile on his lips. “Will you?” 

Hannibal gave him a chaste kiss and now Will was really smiling. “I quite like the idea of taking you away from that scene to the Ripper’s; of seeing your initial reaction.” 

”Okay. Let’s go?” 

”Would you like to finish breakfast first?” asked Hannibal. 

Will glanced at the plate. There wasn’t a lot left. He resettled into his earlier position, tucked against Hannibal’s chest. “Yes, please.” 

Hannibal’s eyes lit with pleasure, possibly because of Will being so polite. He held up a piece of ham and Will opened his mouth to accept it. 

  


=¤=

The apartment complex was a pretty okay one, used mostly by the wealthier students of the nearby college. Will hoped they could finally get some camera footage of the Baron and he could finally rid himself of the ass. 

He and Hannibal headed for the elevator, Will’s hand on the crook of Hannibal’s elbow. They got to the 3rd floor and met Jack in front of the only door showing any activity. 

”Will. Dr. Lecter,” said Jack. 

”Who’s the victim?” Will asked. 

”Psychology student by the name of Eric Addams,” Jack answered. 

”Who found him?” Will continued. 

”Caller’s inside,” said Jack. “You might remember him: Matthew Brown.” 

Will wrinkled his nose. Of course it’d be _him_ messing with Will’s day. He and the Baron were both annoying. 

”Please, lead the way, Jack,” Hannibal said, correctly assuming that Will wouldn’t move things along himself. 

”This way.” 

Will felt Brown’s eyes the moment he entered. He was situated in an armchair in a miraculously clean corner of the front room. The sleek, minimalist and modern room was ruined by the scattered organs of a young man with strawberry blond hair situated, as always, in a chair in the middle of the room. 

Will reluctantly let go of Hannibal to slip on some booties and wander around the room. “No one heard anything?” 

”The apartments are soundproofed,” Jack answered. 

”How was he found?” 

”I was giving back his books,” said Brown and Will fought the desire to snap that he hadn’t asked _him_. “I borrowed them a few days ago and he said to return them today.” 

”You should check out the bedroom,” Beverly suggested. 

Will nodded and snagged Hannibal’s wrist as he went. There was a heated glare directed at his hand. It was ignored. 

The bedroom was devoid of blood, but papers were ripped up and left to lay in a thin, downy layer on the floor. Will raised a brow at what he could make out on the pieces. He turned to Hannibal and huffed at the amused look on his face. He snuck in a kiss before going back to the main room. 

”He was writing a paper on the Ripper?” said Will. 

”He wanted to,” Brown rushed to say. “Our advisors won’t let him, but he’s been doing it on the side.” 

”That should decrease the suspect pool,” Will mused. Ferns had had a fairly sizable internet following, but if only a few people knew about Addams' interest in the Ripper, it would help narrow things down. Without waiting for the room to be cleared, he took a stance in front of the body and closed his eyes to narrow it even further and get this whole thing over with. 

  


_I am allowed inside without issue. Eric knows me. Trusts me. Likes me._

_He barely has time to register the gun before I have pulled the trigger. He is dead before he hits the floor._

_I get him in the chair before rigor mortis sets in. I take a knife from his kitchen and begin._

_I am angrier than usual. Something has set me off. Multiple somethings. I take great glee in ripping his insides out, but I am a bit more careful about where I throw them._

_It's important I have space._

_He has a ring. It’s on his right hand, but it still offends me._

_What is the worth of such a tiny piece of metal?_

_I remove his finger and the ring with it. The finger I drop, the ring I keep as I remove his heart. I mush the two together. I throw both with all the force I can muster._

_As I work, my anger transforms into eagerness._

_This is all for **him**. So **he** can see, so I can prove myself to **him**._

_I am better, greater, above the Ripper._

_**He** will see this soon. _

_And this time I will be there to see **him**._

_This is my design._

  


Huh. 

Will didn’t open his eyes just yet. In his head, he could see the room as it was: the bustling forensics team, some shooting him wary looks; Jack impatiently waiting by the door; Hannibal right behind Will, curious and loving; and Brown in the corner, starving eyes on Will. 

How boring. 

The Bloody Baron was so incredibly _boring_.

He wasn’t worth the headache. 

Will sighed and raised his hands to his temples. He managed a smile when Hannibal rubbed his nape. It widened at the spike of irritation from Brown. 

Will took a breath and turned to Jack, leaning a shoulder against Hannibal. “Remember when I said they were trying to prove themselves better than the Ripper? And that there’s someone specific they want to prove that to?” 

”I do,” said Jack. “You got a better idea on that?” 

Will back other sigh. “It’s someone they think will appreciate their work.” 

”Is the ring over here a hint?” Price chimed in from over the lumpy remains of Addams' heart. 

”Courting gifts,” Hannibal mused. “Their works were made to woo someone.” 

Will nodded. “Someone in love with someone else.” 

”In love with the Ripper?” asked Beverly. 

”Not necessarily.” Will grabbed Hannibal’s left hand, playing with the ring and making sure Brown saw. “The someone is in a relationship and has an interest in the Ripper, but that doesn’t automatically mean they’re in a relationship _with_ the Ripper.” 

”It's like everything’s about the Ripper,” muttered Zeller. 

”That’s what our killer feels like, yes,” said Will. 

”Is the Baron planning on exposing himself to their someone?” Jack demanded. 

”Eventually, definitely,” Will confirmed. 

”Would the someone turn them in?” Jack continued. 

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. They _think_ the someone won’t, but…”

Jack’s phone rang. 

Outwardly, Will didn’t react, but his heart stopped and sped and his mouth went dry. Hannibal stroked Will’s knuckles with a thumb, so soft and sweet it sent a shiver up Will’s spine. 

Jack answered the call with a barked, “What?” His face went stony as he listened, but by the time he lowered the phone, he looked tired. He pinched his nose, brought himself together and turned to Will, back to his normal state of bullish determination. 

”Is there anything else you can get from this scene?” Jack asked. 

Will shook his head. “I’m done.” 

”Good.” He got the attention of his team. “Leave everything else to the rest, we’ve got somewhere to be.” 

The three exchanged surprised looks. “Where are we going?” said Zeller. 

”A probable Ripper scene's been found outside the city,” Jack answered. 

Price made a shocked sound. “Two in one day, jeez. Maybe everything _is_ about the Ripper.” 

Beverly straightened up from her crouch at the body’s feet. “Don’t say that. You’ll just stroke his ego.” 

”And what a terrible thing that would be,” said Hannibal. Will dug his fingers into Hannibal’s palm in reprimand, but Hannibal just gave him a subtle smile. 

”Got a point there,” Zeller agreed. 

”Will,” said Jack, “you’ll follow behind us, but I’ll send you the location just in case.” 

”I dropped my phone earlier, you’ll have to send it to Hannibal,” said Will. 

”Got it. Let’s go.” 

Will followed him out the apartment, hand still around Hannibal’s. He ignored Brown fuming impotently in the corner. It really was a good thing after all: that this had been found first. 

If he could have, Will would’ve skipped. 

Outside, they got in their separate cars: Jack and the team in a black van; Will and Hannibal in the Bentley. Will stretched as best he could on the plush, leather seat and breathed. Being in the Bentley was the same as being home or in Hannibal’s office. It was so completely _Hannibal_ that Will could center himself with ease. 

As Hannibal drove, Will turned to him and said: “Matthew Brown is the Bloody Baron.” 

Hannibal seemed unsurprised but curious. “Is he? Why would he report his own crime? To throw suspicion?” 

”No, it’s because the ‘someone’ he wants to impress is me.” 

If Hannibal had been a lesser man, Will was sure he would’ve swerved onto the sidewalk. As it was, he only white knuckled the steering wheel, lip twitching in an aborted snarl. 

Will smiled and reached over. He brushed his ring over Hannibal’s jaw, reminding him who Will had chosen. Hannibal calmed. Mostly. 

”You’re certain?” 

”Yeah,” said Will. “I don’t know how to prove it yet, but something will give.” 

”Preferably without you getting hurt,” Hannibal said. 

Will hummed. “Maybe I’ll have him be my last present. Let him see what he never stood a chance against. Once I have a way to prove his guilt.” 

”As you wish, my dear,” Hannibal squeezed Will’s thigh. “May I ask something regarding Mr. Brown?” 

”Sure.” 

”His first victim seems very different from his second and third,” said Hannibal. “He didn’t have the interest in the Ripper that got the other two on Mr. Brown’s list. Why was he targeted?” 

”I ran into Brown while I was buying limes for your pie,” Will explained. “Then, I _literally_ ran into Carlton and he was kind of an ass about it. He was killed because he was mean to me, which sounds _very_ familiar.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “If there’s one thing I can compliment Mr. Brown on, it’s that he obviously has good taste.” 

Will rolled his eyes. “Sap.” 

”Yours, mon chéri.” 

”Damn right, you are.” 

Will relaxed into his seat, eyes moving to the window as they neared the edge of the city. He licked his lips. 

”Will I see it right away or do we have to walk to it?” Will asked. 

”It’s inside Mr. Masters' estate, so we’ll have to walk,” said Hannibal. 

Will groaned and Hannibal squeezed his thigh again. “Patience, darling.” 

”Patience is overrated,” Will grumbled. He felt a bit like a child, but he didn’t care. 

”We’re almost there.” 

That wasn’t quite true. It took another 15 minutes to reach the Masters estate and by that point Will was almost dancing in his seat like he really needed to pee. 

He got out of the Bentley without waiting for Hannibal to get his door. He heard Hannibal sigh over it, but the sound was fond. 

The body had been found by a gardener in a greenhouse in the back. It took everything in Will not to rush ahead. He kept squeezing Hannibal’s hand, getting an answering squeeze each time. 

They reached the greenhouse after what felt like the longest walk of Will’s life. Thankfully, his present was front and center the moment he passed through the doors. He dropped Hannibal’s hand and circled the body. 

Anton Masters was laid on an empty flowerbed. Part of his exposed brain had been carved away and filled with Anton’s cock. The shiny stumps where his hands used to be were on his stomach as if framing the carefully stitched cut there. Small pieces of a shattered mirror were scattered over his body, throwing weak winter sunlight around the space. There was a large amount of them concentrated in his empty, gaping chest. His heart had been cut into strips and arranged into a rose over his lips. 

_Beautiful._

Will stopped at Anton’s left side. He hid the lower half of his face behind his thick scarf, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist smiling. 

He shut his eyes and not so much sank as dove headfirst into his Ripper. 

  


_I am even more careful and meticulous than usual. In both the presentation and the clearing of evidence. It wouldn’t do to be caught now. Not with such lovely thing waiting in bed._

_This is all for **him**. So **he** can see, so I can prove myself to **him**._

_My love, my obsession, my god, my everything._

_Mr. Masters' penis is in place of his brain for his lack of intelligence. His hands have been taken for his inability to use them wisely. The heart rose is made out of a need to declare my love for **him** in any and every way there is. The mirrors are dedicated to the poor woman and unborn child he’d killed—the reason he had caught **his** attention. _

_What a lucky, lucky man Anton Masters is._

_I hope my darling loves his gift._

_This is **our** design. _

  


Will had never been so grateful for his long coat as it hid his erection. He opened his eyes just a sliver and Hannibal found his gaze as if he’d been waiting for it. Will tried to convey all the love that roiled in his chest and knew he’d succeeded as Hannibal almost seemed to glow with satisfaction and pride. 

Oops. That might have been _too_ generous a stroke to his ego. 

Will got himself as under control as he could manage and turned to Jack. He was shoving his phone into a pocket with a pained look on his face. Will didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “It’s definitely the Ripper.” 

”Anything different?” said Jack, waving the team forward. 

Will got out of their way, feeling like the bubbles popping his chest were making him float, and shook his head. “Nope. Same sense of superiority as usual, same sadistic streak. It’s just like every other Ripper scene. I can’t give you any more than what we’ve already got.” 

Jack nodded, not seeming as bothered by the news as he expected. “That’s fine. We’ve got another place to be.” 

The warm arousal and bubbly joy Will had been lying in went up in smoke. “What.” 

”Gideon was being transported for questioning this morning,” Jack explained, words just barely distinguishable past the ringing in Will’s ears. “He escaped, killing all his guards. I need you to look at the scene and figure out what he’s planning next.” 

But—

No. 

_No, no, no._

Will didn’t want to leave yet. He wanted to _stay_ , memorize each and every single inch—centimeter—millimeter of this scene, the placement of each mirror shard and the angle of the light they bounced. 

It was too soon. This was _his_ , he should get to enjoy it, shouldn’t he? 

He didn’t want to go. Not for Jack or Gideon or anything. He _refused_ to. 

”We’re gonna go find Gideon. Come on,” Jack ordered. 

”Okay.” Will followed, an obedient dog as always. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, have y'all noticed...... Chambers..... Ferns..... Addams...... Masters....... I've given quite a few victims last names that end in 's'. This isn't intentional, by the way. It kinda just ended up this way???? Does this say something about me????? Am I reading too much into this????
> 
> This is also probably a good time to say:
> 
> If you or anyone you know has a name similar to or just like the names of the people I killed in this fic........I'm sorry.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, uh, got a little graphic, fair warning.
> 
> I've always kinda liked Gideon. He was such a little shit to Hanni, I thought it was hilarious.
> 
> Enjoy!!

They left the team behind, Beverly groaning about how eventful the day was becoming. Will trailed behind Jack and looked back only once, wanting a last glimpse. Zeller was in the way. Will didn’t have it in him to feel anything about that.

The walk out of the estate seemed significantly faster than the walk to the greenhouse. It was like Will blinked and Hannibal was getting him into the Bentley, brushing a hand down Will’s back. He radiated concern and the return of his earlier anger over Will’s bad mood, but for once Will was firmly locked onto his own emotions, momentarily indistinguishable from each other as they may be. 

Once they were again on the road, Hannibal asked: “Are you all right, caro mio?” 

Will sobbed. 

It was unintentional and he found it embarrassing, but he sobbed, ducking his head and clenching his hands in his lap. 

”Oh, darling.” 

Hannibal removed a hand from the wheel. He stroked Will’s thigh, offering as much comfort as he could while driving. Will grabbed it and brought it up to his face, just breathing him in. He tried to articulate his thoughts: the anger and frustration and longing and sadness, but the only thing that made it past his lips was another sob. 

His head was throbbing dully, like a hammer wrapped in cotton was trying to break out of his skull. 

Hannibal pressed on his jaw and Will made an effort to focus on him, blinking tears out of his eyes. Hannibal glanced away from the road just long enough to make sure he had Will’s attention. 

”Would it cheer you to know I’ve already started work on a drawing of the scene?” he said. 

Will’s heart skipped, nails digging into the back of Hannibal’s hand. “You have?” 

Hannibal nodded. “I can have it finished by tonight.” 

Will kissed Hannibal’s palm. The hammer was still going but it was easier to ignore. “I love you.” 

”And I love you, mano širdis.” 

”There’s still one more,” Will reminded himself with a sniffle. “I’ll join you until the end this time.” 

”As you wish, darling,” said Hannibal. “You’re still certain of Mr. Duke Karlssen?” 

”Why wouldn’t I be?” Will replied, thinking of why he’d been on Hannibal’s rolodex. He’d tried to make friends with Hannibal by offering one or both of his underage children to him for sex. He’d then proceeded to question his manhood when he’d declined. He had only been added to the rolodex shortly before Will and Hannibal met and Will was eager to toss his card into the fire. There wasn’t much he could do about what the children had already suffered, but he could at least get rid of their “father".

”Very well.” Hannibal nodded. “Just tell me when.” 

The rest of the ride passed in silence, only the aria from the speakers filling the car as Will tried to do something about his headache. Doing his scene readings twice in one morning was taking a toll on him. One that would only get worse after doing it a third time. 

He missed his aspirin. 

They found Gideon’s transport by the side of a less traveled country road. The bodies of his guards were scattered in and around the truck and Will had to raise a brow at the expertly removed then crudely hung organs strung on the trees like Gideon had decided to celebrate Halloween way too early. 

Will did his job quickly. He entered the scene, put the pieces together, then fought through what was now definitely a migraine to talk. He told Jack about his and Hannibal’s suspicions regarding Chilton, Gideon and psychic driving: that Gideon was now seeking out the Ripper’s attention to figure himself out. 

Will was almost willing to give Gideon what he wanted. 

Finally, _finally_ , Will thought he could go home. Curl up beside Hannibal as he drew. Play with his dogs. _Breathe._

But, no. 

The day just kept going downhill. 

They were almost home, just a couple blocks away, when Jack called. Gideon had found and killed one of his psychiatrists. Will had to go. Everything was being put on hold to find and capture Abel Gideon. 

Hannibal said he’d drive him, of course, but Will put his foot down. At least one of them should be able to relax. Hannibal tried to argue, but Will insisted and insisted until Hannibal gave in, seeing that it was only causing Will _more_ stress to fight. 

Hannibal didn’t let Will leave without a kiss. Long and slow and sweet, making Will’s heart seize up like it wanted to get small enough to crawl up Will’s throat and jump out his mouth to land in Hannibal’s hands. 

It also dazed Will enough that he didn’t retort when Hannibal put his phone and the keys to the Bentley on Will’s lap. 

Will drove to Dr. Timbers' office, missing Hannibal the whole time. He drove slowly, partly because he didn’t wanna go and partly because, while he drove with a migraine fairly frequently, that didn’t mean it came _easy_ to him. 

Dr. Timbers was on her fancy leather office chair, drained of blood; tongue removed and placed on her chest. A circle had been cut from the top of her head, showing her mashed up brains. 

Will didn’t even need to sink into the scene to understand. 

He said that Gideon was scrambling the brains of the people who’d scrambled _his._ That he’d be going after the psychiatrists that he’d interacted with during his stay in the BSHCI. 

They got the list: 7 in all, including Timbers, Chilton and, chillingly, Alana. Jack sent protection details to each doctor, Will calling Alana during a lull to make sure all was well and give her a warning. He almost told her to go stay with Hannibal for a bit, but he was too selfish. He wanted Hannibal to focus on Will’s drawing. 

By the time all the teams had been sent out, they’d gotten another call: Dr. Paul Carruthers had just been killed. 

Abel Gideon was apparently having a much more productive day than the rest of them and it was only early afternoon. 

They rushed to Dr. Carruthers office, finding him in the same state as Dr. Timbers. Except for the computer mouse on his lap. When it was moved, the computer monitor activated. It showed TattleCrime.com, specifically an article by Freddie Lounds on Dr. Carruthers' death. 

They’d barely swallowed the idea that Gideon had Freddie when they received word from one of the teams that Dr. Frederick Chilton was missing. 

Will vindictively wondered if it would really be such a bad idea to abandon Freddie and Chilton so he could take a nap. Or at least have lunch. Hannibal wasn’t going to be pleased about his having missed a meal. 

The sun was going down when they finally got the location of Freddie’s laptop. Will’s migraine had reached truly stunning levels. 

He was pissed off, hungry and he missed Hannibal so fucking much. 

Brown and Gideon had ruined his day. And while he couldn’t do anything about Brown just yet, he could do something about Gideon. 

As they came upon the night shrouded observatory, Will planned. 

  


=¤=

It worked. 

To be expected, but Will still felt a brief flare of smugness before it was swallowed by his unceasing migraine and he was just irritated again. 

He’d hidden the Bentley away from the FBI vans but partially in sight of a discreet side door of the observatory. Gideon appeared in the doorway just as agents got ready to go in through the other entrances. He spotted the Bentley and headed over, likely knowing the car he’d brought would by now have been found and confiscated. 

For one reason or another, he seemed to think nothing of the door being unlocked. He slid into the driver’s seat as if he owned it and started patting around under the wheel. 

Will pulled back the safety of his gun. 

Gideon froze. He slowly straightened up and met Will’s eyes through the rearview mirror. 

”Hi, Dr. Gideon.” 

Gideon tipped his head. “Mr. Graham. Should I exit the car?” he asked, casually as if this was a friendly conversation over coffee. 

”That won't be necessary. I’d like you to take the keys in the glove compartment and drive us where I tell you to,” said Will. 

”What a peculiar request,” Gideon mused even as he did as told. 

Will kept the car trained on Gideon as the car started. “Don’t worry, it’ll make sense eventually. Let’s get out of here.” 

Gideon drove. 

  


=¤=

Hannibal was waiting for them in the garage and Will’s lungs rediscovered the many wonders of oxygen. 

”Hello, Dr. Lecter,” Gideon greeted as he exited the Bentley. 

”Good evening, Dr. Gideon,” said Hannibal, accepting the car keys and opening Will’s door. “It’s been some time since we last saw each other. I think myself lucky, however, that I wasn’t one of your psychiatrists.” 

”I wouldn’t say you were wrong to feel that,” Gideon replied. 

”Cut the chit-chat, please,” Will snapped. 

”You still have a headache,” Hannibal observed, placing a hand on Will’s cheek. 

Will leaned into it, pleasantly cool against his over warm skin. “It never left.” 

”I’ll make you a tea I think might help,” Hannibal promised and kissed him. When he drew back, he asked: “Could you please tell me why you brought Dr. Gideon here?” 

Will smiled. “I want you to give him an answer.” 

Hannibal’s eyes flashed. “I see.” He turned to Gideon. “Please, follow me.” 

Hannibal strode off. Gideon glanced at Will who waved the gun to tell him to obey. He did. 

They passed through the kitchen to the trapdoor in the pantry leading to the wine cellar. They entered a small off shoot storage room and Hannibal opened the hidden door, flicking on the lights as he entered. 

Will watched Gideon look around, noting the meat hooks on the ceiling, the autopsy tables, fridges and meat cutters. Gideon tilted his head. “I believe I’m beginning to understand why I’m here.” 

”Very good,” said Hannibal. “Would you like to remove your clothes or shall I cut them off of you?” 

”I’ll take them off, thank you.” 

Will dropped onto the couch, putting the gun on the end table and getting his shoes off. Hannibal was busy with he straps on one of the tables. 

”Am I stripping all the way?” asked Gideon, clothes neatly folded at his feet. 

”You may keep your underwear if you wish,” Hannibal answered. 

”You two are being so polite it’s almost insufferable,” said Will. 

“May I remind you, you asked for this, mon chéri,” Hannibal said as he waved Gideon closer. 

Will rolled his eyes, then winced as it made his headache spike. He shut them and tipped his head back, focusing on breathing. 

Cool hands landed on his temples and massaged over his scalp, down to his nape. Hannibal did it three more times before Will sighed and opened his eyes. 

”Better?” 

”Little bit.” 

Hannibal brushed a thumb over Will’s bottom lip. “Shall I assume Dr. Gideon is to be the last of the sounder?” 

Will wrinkled his nose, making Hannibal chuckle. “Would you like me to fetch Mr. Karlssen?” 

”Could you?” said Will. “I don’t want him to be around those kids anymore. You’ve left it alone long enough as it is.” 

”I met you two days later and became distracted,” Hannibal replied. 

If it wouldn’t have hurt, Will would’ve raised a brow. “That’s not a good excuse.” 

Hannibal kissed him. “Understood. It might take me some time to retrieve him. In the meantime, perhaps you can have dinner.” 

Will’s stomach gurgled. “That sounds good. I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast.” 

Hannibal sighed, displeasure rolling off him in waves. “I’ll prepare something for you. Would you like something as well, Dr. Gideon?” 

”That would be lovely, Dr. Lecter, thank you,” said Gideon from where he was securely strapped to one of the tables. 

They really were insufferable. 

Hannibal went upstairs and Will stayed in the basement. He laid across the couch and put an arm over his eyes to block out the harsh lighting. He wasn’t concerned about Gideon. He wouldn’t be able to escape. 

”May I ask you something, Mr. Graham?” Gideon said. 

”What?” Will mumbled. 

"Am I in the Chesapeake Ripper's basement?” 

”Yes.” 

”I see.” 

Will shifted his arm a little to see him. “Is that a good thing?” 

Gideon looked like he was trying to shrug, but was too securely tied down to do it. “I’m about to die, quite painfully I imagine, and that’s generally a bad thing, but…my head feels clearer now which I’m very grateful for.” 

”You’re welcome,” Will said. “It’s nice to know yourself.” 

”It really is.” 

They fell silent, thinking their own thoughts. Will wondered if he could convince Hannibal to let him take one of the dogs down. Just this once. 

Hannibal returned with a tray of food: headache-safe fish and chips with a side of greens for Will and easy to eat, but expertly crafted sandwiches for Gideon. Hannibal also brought Will the tea he’d mentioned. 

”Jack was calling my phone in your coat pocket when I got upstairs,” said Hannibal. “He’s been calling for quite a while, I think.” 

”Whoops,” Will said and picked up a fry. 

”He asked for you to return and I insisted you needed some rest,” Hannibal continued. 

”Did you pull the doctor card?” 

”I did.” Hannibal checked his watch. “Will you be all right while I’m out?” 

”Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Will reassured. “Can I bring a dog down here?” 

Hannibal sighed. “Very well.” 

”Thank you.” 

Hannibal tipped Will’s head back to give him a kiss, licking into his mouth and making Will melt. 

”I’ll return to you soon,” Hannibal promised. 

”Okay,” Will said, dazed. 

Hannibal left with a reminder to tie Gideon’s hand back down later and take his meds. Will let him fuss with a smile. He’d been hoping they could go get Karlssen together, but he was in no state to be doing that, so watching Gideon it was. 

”You two seem to love each other a lot,” Gideon commented. 

Will showed him the ring. “We do.” 

”I hope your marriage ends better than mine,” said Gideon. 

”I doubt that’s something I need to worry over.” 

”No,” Gideon conceded. “I don’t think so either. Why is Dr. Lecter getting another victim?” 

Will shrugged. “It’s a combination of the fact that he’d already been chosen and my desire to make sure that not a single part of you keeps believing you’re the Ripper. Mostly the latter.” 

”What does he do with his trophies?” 

Will grinned. “I don’t wanna put you off your food. Hannibal doesn’t like his work being wasted.” 

Gideon understood. “So, I was right with the nurse’s eye.” 

"You were.” Will picked up some fish. “It was almost impressive.” 

Gideon stared at the sandwich in his hand for a moment. He brought it to his lips. Chewed thoughtfully. Swallowed. 

”He’s a very good cook.” 

”That he is.” 

  


=¤=

Two hours passed before Hannibal reappeared. In that time, Will finished his food, secured Gideon’s hand, washed their dishes, took his meds and brought Winston down to the basement along with a blanket. He made sure to keep Winston by the couch, not wanting him to mess with anything. He eventually fell asleep, hand in Winston’s fur. 

He awoke to Hannibal stroking his cheek. Will managed a bleary smile and remembered where he was. He glanced behind Hannibal to see an unconscious man on the other autopsy table already stripped down. 

”Welcome home,” Will mumbled. 

”It was tempting to let you sleep, but I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it,” said Hannibal. “What would you like me to take from him?” 

Will sat up, legs tucked underneath him, Winston putting his head on Will’s knee. Will pet him while running his eyes over Duke Karlssen. His dark roots were beginning to show under her his overly yellow waves. 

”Lungs,” Will decided. “As payment for all the oxygen he’s wasted. Liver?” 

”He’s not one to drink. It’ll be suitable.” 

Will nodded. “I want something meaty, too.” 

”Thighs?” Hannibal offered. 

”Would that interfere with what you wanna make?” 

”It won’t.” 

”Thighs it is.” 

Hannibal kissed his temple and went to Gideon. “Let me reposition you so you can see better.” 

”Of course.” Gideon glanced between him and Will. “Is this how things always go?” 

”This is a recent development,” answered Hannibal. “Will and I only met late last year.” 

”A whirlwind romance.” 

”It required quite a bit of effort on my part,” said Hannibal. 

Will huffed. “We got here eventually.” 

Hannibal finished affixing Gideon’s table into a position where he could easily see Duke. “You’re much more accepting of my gifts now than then.” 

Will shrugged. “You wore me down.” 

”After quite a bit of effort,” Hannibal reiterated. 

”Hey, you weren’t the only one putting in an effort to get here.” 

Hannibal smiled in agreement. 

He got to work prepping what he needed: arranging his tools; tying Duke's ankles together with a hook attached to the rope which was connected to a stomp pad at Hannibal’s feet to lift it when required; and heating up a piece of metal for cauterization. 

Once Hannibal deemed it hot enough, he picked up a large, heavy butcher’s knife. He hesitated and looked to Will. “Would you like me to gag him? I doubt his screaming would be good for your headache.” 

Will shook his head. “It’s fine, it’s practically gone.” 

”As you wish.” 

Hannibal lifted the knife. And brought it down. 

Duke _shrieked_.

Hannibal was undisturbed. He cut the other leg off with another confident stroke and stepped on the button to bring the hook up. He stopped its swinging, letting the severed legs bleed out into a bucket, picked up the hot metal and sealed the wounds to the tune of more screeching. 

Each action segued seamlessly into the next, not a single wasted movement. It left Will breathless even as he calmed Winston down. 

”I love you,” Will sighed. He thought it’d been drowned out by the screams ringing around the room, but Hannibal caught it. He smiled over Will and Will flushed like it was the beginning of their relationship again. 

Duke went through demands for an explanation, pleas for mercy and desperate bargains all at once. Will scowled when he offered up his children. 

”I suggest you not bring up little Genevieve and Maxwell again, Mr. Karlssen,” Hannibal said as he picked up a scalpel. “It's your crimes against them that have brought you here after all.” 

”I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’ll never do it again—"

”I’m afraid it’s far too late for that.” 

Hannibal dragged the scalpel over his skin and the screaming resumed. Will, personally, found it much more tolerable than his talking. 

Winston calmed eventually, helped along by the treats Will had brought along. Duke took a much longer time to calm. He never really did until he began running out of blood after Hannibal removed his liver and opened up his chest. By that point he was only alive for another few minutes. 

Hannibal put away the offal and put away his bloody gloves. “So,” he said to Will, “what will we be taking from Dr. Gideon?” 

Will turned his gaze to the man in question, stroking a hand down Winston’s neck. “Any suggestions?” 

”Well,” said Gideon. “Mr. Karlssen was given a punishment befitting his crime. Which specific crime am I being punished for?” 

”Being a pain in my ass,” Will deadpanned. “For thoroughly exhausting me on what was supposed to be a good day.” 

”I’ve drained you,” Gideon paraphrased. “Hollowed you out. I suppose you’ll be removing everything, then, Dr. Lecter.” 

"Do you agree, my love?” asked Hannibal as he resettled Gideon into his precious lying position. 

Will shrugged. “Sure, but do we have the time for it? It’s getting pretty la—well, early.” 

”I’ll be quick, darling.” 

Hannibal prepared what he needed again, then slipped on new gloves. “Are you ready, Dr. Gideon?” 

”As I’ll ever be,” said Gideon. “Thank you for clearing my head, Dr. Lecter, Mr. Graham. I hope your marriage brings you both happiness.” 

Hannibal tipped his head. “Your well wishes are appreciated.” 

”Goodbye, Abel Gideon,” Will said. 

Hannibal begun with a neat Y-incision down Gideon’s torso. 

Gideon reacted with only a low grunt. 

Hannibal went from the bottom for Gideon to last as long as possible. Gideon made very little noise which Will appreciated. He’d said it was fine, but the screaming _had_ hurt his head in the end. 

Abel Gideon died as Hannibal was taking out his stomach. Will watched his heart slow and stop, his own jumping. 

He truly, sincerely wished Gideon well. 

Everything was packed away and Hannibal again gave Will his full attention. 

”Shall we go, mano širdis?” 

”Okay.” 

Duke and Gideon’s tableau was made in a playground a couple blocks away from the school both their children had gone to. 

Will watched in awe as Hannibal made art. The same expert ease and careful precision he had in the kitchen was just as if not more evident here. Will had to wrap his arms around himself and squeeze to deal with the swell of emotion that threatened to shatter him to pieces. 

Hannibal kept glancing at him as he worked, a proud, pleased smile on his lips. By the time he stepped back, piece done, Will’s knees were shaking and threatening to give out. 

Duke and Gideon were underneath the monkey bars, hung in fishing wire. Gideon was above as if floating, open torso stuffed with paper flowers, a piece of silk around his hips to protect his decency. Duke was underneath him, silk around his chest trailing into a pool on the ground where his legs would be if he still had them. He was reaching upwards, Gideon’s brain in his hands, and Gideon was reaching down, Duke's heart in one hand. 

It was them. _It was he and Hannibal._

”Amazing,” Will choked out. “It’s so amazing.” 

That proud, pleased smile widened as Hannibal came around Will to hug him from behind, putting his chin on Will’s shoulder. “Look as long as you like, my love.” 

Will melted back against him, unable to tear his eyes away from Hannibal’s gift. He burned every little detail into his brain, engraved it on the sides of his skull until he could see it even when he closed his eyes. 

A car revved in the distance and Will jumped. He sighed. “We should go.” 

”Do you want to?” 

”Yeah.” Will turned to face hum, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “I’ll see this again in a bit.” 

”And in better lighting,” said Hannibal. 

Will laughed. “I’m happy with it as it is.” 

Hannibal squeezed his hips. “Go ahead to the car, darling, I need to make sure we haven’t left anything.” 

”Okay.” Will leaned in to whisper in Hannibal’s ear. “Hurry, I really, _really_ need you inside of me.” 

Hannibal growled. “Go.” 

Will laughed again and ran off to the Bentley. He got in and tilted his seat as far back as he could go, tossing his coat, scarf and gloves to the backseat. 

It took Hannibal ten minutes to deem the scene clean and return to Will. Will saw the flare of heat in his eyes when they landed on Will and he stretched languidly. 

”You're very much testing my patience, mon chéri,” Hannibal said as he started the car. 

Will hummed and reached over to pull off Hannibal’s scarf. “I don’t wanna wait until we get home.” 

”That might not be very wise,” Hannibal retorted. 

Will undid Hannibal’s coat buttons. “Don’t care. I need you to fill me with your come.” 

Hannibal swallowed, eyes fixed on the road. “Will…”

”Please, Daddy?” 

Hannibal snapped. “Impatient darling.” 

Will grinned. 

Hannibal kept driving for a bit before turning into a discreet, empty alley. He parked the car and climbed over the console to get on top of Will, knees on the seat, between Will’s spread thighs. 

Will’s laugh was cut off by a kiss. He helped Hannibal shuck his coat, sucking on his tongue. Getting Will’s pants off was an incredibly complicated endeavor—too complicated to finish. They just got it down Will’s thighs them he turned onto his knees, hugging the back of the soon-to-be thoroughly ruined leather seat. 

Hannibal got lube from God knew where, making Will jump and moan as it poured, so cold, down his crack. Two fingers were shoved into his hole along with another squirt of lube. Will whimpered and pushed back, riding Hannibal’s fingers and trying to get them on his prostate. 

”Look how greedy you are,” said Hannibal. 

”S'your fault,” Will slurred out and yelped as a hit landed on his ass. Hannibal rubbed over it and hummed. 

”Should I keep going caro mio?” Hannibal asked. When Will only mumbled an answer, he demanded, “Speak up.” 

”Yes, please, Daddy!” 

”I wonder…”

”Please, please, please! Hit me, hit me again, please, I want it!” 

”Very good.” 

Hannibal spanked him. The hits were hard and scattered all over his ass in a steady rhythm. Will moaned and groaned and clawed at the seat even as he offered himself up for more. Cries of _yes_ and _please_ and _Daddy_ jumped out his mouth and tears filled his eyes. He barely noticed a third and fourth finger entering his hole. 

Hannibal stopped. He rubbed his hand over Will’s smarting behind, digging into the most sensitive spots as Will whimpered. The thumb of the hand inside Will pressed against his perineum and Will sobbed. 

”Would you like me to fist you, darling?” 

_”Oh, God, yes.”_

Hannibal poured more slick into Will’s hole, nudging at it with his thumb. “You’re being very cooperative now that you’re getting what you want.” 

”Want you,” Will babbled. “Always want you, Daddy, I only want you. I love you, I love you so much, Daddy.” 

Will felt Hannibal shudder. “And I love you, mano širdis.” 

His thumb slipped inside. Will gasped and drooled. There was so much lube that it was dripping down Will’s thighs. The widest part of Hannibal’s hand began pressing in, stretching Will so wide he reflexively tried to get away and was stopped by Hannibal putting a knee on Will’s pants down around his knees. He pet Will’s side and shushed him gently. 

”Relax, my dear, just relax for me,” said Hannibal. “Bear down.” 

Will obeyed. He had to do it twice before crying out as Hannibal sunk in to the wrist. 

”Oh, God. _Oh, God, Daddy_ …” He felt so _fucking_ full and Hannibal gave him no time to adjust before clenching his fist and grinding against Will’s prostate. Will’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He tried to get away again and was stopped this time by Hannibal bending down to trap him against the seat, licking at his neck. Hannibal reached underneath Will to grab his balls, making him moan and squirm as they were tugged and rolled and squeezed. 

Hannibal fucked him with his fist, pulling back just enough to stretch Will’s rim around his knuckles then sliding back in, applying harsh almost painful pressure on Will’s prostate all the while abusing Will’s balls. 

Will lost all ability to think. 

”I nee—Daddy, please, please,” he rambled, unable to focus on anything. “I’m so close, Daddy, let me co—please, I need to come, Daddy.” 

”Go ahead, darling,” Hannibal said. “Come for me. Be good and come for me.” 

Hannibal spread out his hand, fingers stroking Will’s inner walls before bringing it back into a fist and resuming his abuse of Will’s prostate. 

Will shook and screamed as he came, his come landing on the expensive leather seat. Hannibal kissed up his neck and licked the shell of his ear, hands going gentle, but not stopping. Will whined. 

”That was beautiful, mon chéri,” Hannibal whispered. “Now, I do believe it’s my turn.” 

”Yes,” Will sighed, fighting past his exhaustion to keep his ass up. A gasp left him as Hannibal removed his hands. He could feel his hole gaping open. “Take me.” 

Hannibal put a hand on the seat back and undid his pants. His hot cock slipped into Will’s loose hole easily, all in one effortless stroke. Will moaned and whined as Hannibal’s slacks rubbed against his burning asscheeks. Hannibal planted his other hand on the seat and used it as leverage to _fuck_ Will. 

Will’s ass flared with new pain as Hannibal kept slamming against it, but it never occurred to him to ask him to slow or stop. The windows were fogged up, the car was rocking and each breath Will took smelled like sweat and sex. 

Hannibal tore open Will’s shirt with a lube covered hand and jerked it out of the way. He sucked bruises onto the exposed skin and played with Will’s nipples. 

Will writhed, everything too much. He sobbed as Hannibal refused to let up. His hole fluttered weakly around Hannibal’s dick, he wanted Hannibal to come, to fill him up. 

”You’re definitely gonna need a new seat after this,” Will gasped. 

Hannibal laughed against his shoulder. “A sacrifice happily made, caro mio.” 

Will laughed, too, unable to help himself and did his best to clench. Hannibal grunted and bottomed out. He sighed Will’s name and came, pumping Will’s well used hole full of hot spend. Will shivered. 

Hannibal pulled out and slumped against the dashboard while Will collapsed onto the seat back. Will hummed at the feeling of Hannibal’s come immediately pooling underneath him. He was ready to fall asleep. 

”I don’t think I can sit down properly for the rest of the trip home,” Will said. He jumped as Hannibal touched his ass, but quickly relaxed into the gentle touch. 

”Lay on your stomach in the back, my love,” Hannibal suggested. “I’ll rub some oil on you when we get home.”

Moving was definitely _something_ with Will’s thoroughly wrung dry body, but he eventually got himself onto the back seat. He couldn’t bring himself to pull his pants up, it hurt too much. He didn’t regret a thing, though. He’d very much enjoyed everything and he wouldn’t at all mind doing it again. 

But not right away. Definitely not. 

He positioned himself in such a way that he could still see Hannibal as he drove. He was messy in that way only Will was allowed to make and see. Will loved it. 

The alley they’d had their tryst in was too narrow for a U-turn. Hannibal decided to go forward instead of back and after a few turns they were back on the road. 

”Has this day been redeemed for you, my love?” 

Will thought about it. “I’d say so. Still sucked, though. I used to only take cold cases because high stress moments like today were a little less likely to happen. I hate those.” 

”Should I again remind you that you can always quit?” said Hannibal. 

Will sighed. “I’m entirely certain that Jack won’t leave me alone even if I got a restraining order—and, no, we’re not killing Jack,” he added hastily upon seeing the spark in Hannibal’s eyes. “Just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean he’s not doing some good.” 

”What do you want to do, then?” asked Hannibal. “You obviously don’t want to stay.” 

”I don’t know,” Will said. “I’ll figure something out.” 

”I’m sure you will. And I’m here if you require me. You need only ask.” 

”I know.” Will smiled. Then yawned. “I’ll think about it in the morning.” 

”Go ahead and rest, darling, you’ve well earned it,” said Hannibal. 

Will slept. 

  


=¤=

Around dawn, Will woke up in bed. 

He relieved himself, limping, and went back to the warm sheets. 

He didn’t sleep. 

Several different trains of thought ran at the same time as Will wove them together, discarding some and adding to others. 

There was something…something here. 

_The Bloody Baron._

Hmm. 

Eventually, Hannibal woke as well. Will vaguely registered the way he left him alone to his thoughts, going to prepare breakfast without a word, just a quick kiss to the top of his head. 

Hannibal’s ring glinted in the light. 

Hmm. 

Ah. 

_Okay._

Will went downstairs, still with that limp. Hannibal looked smug when he noticed. Will just rolled his eyes and hugged him, not caring that Hannibal was in the middle of cooking. He would manage. 

”Good morning at last,” said Hannibal. 

”Morning,” Will replied. “I need your help with something. I can’t tell you everything yet and I can’t tell you _why_ I can’t tell you. Is that all right?” 

”Of course,” Hannibal replied. “Anything, my love.” 

That deserved a kiss, didn’t it? Will gave him one. “We need to go deal with Brown. And I want us to get formally married, already, bells and whistles included.” 

”As you wish. Tell me what I have to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what our Sweet William has planned 🤔🤔
> 
> I sure hope it goes well 😀😀


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fairly quick chapter this time since we have other stuff to get to, with some Hanni POV being an absolutely disgusting sap monster for your pleasure~
> 
> Little thing:
> 
> I know nothing about the legal processes of marriage, so yeah. I don't really know much about receptions either, I've been to _one_ and that happened ages ago when I was nine. My clearest memory of that night was wanting to get more pasta because it was buffet style and I _could_ but a mosquito decided to land on my plate and die and I got shy for reasons my (slightly) grown up brain cannot comprehend. I was also a flower girl.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this!!
> 
> Please read the end notes.

Will put his new phone away and stretched his hands over his head after exiting Alana’s car. The drive to the BSHCI hadn’t been all that long, but he’d been behind a desk for hours beforehand.

He bent over to touch his toes and sputtered as the key slid out from under his shirt to smack him in the face. 

He straightened up, scowling as he heard Alana laugh. “Shut up, you.” 

”Sorry, sorry,” said Alana, covering her mouth with a hand. “What is that?” 

Will showed it to her. “Gift from Hannibal—or, well, part of one.” 

”What’s it open?” asked Alana. 

”That’s a secret,” Alana answered. “Besides, we have work to do. Stupid as it is. We both know Chilton’s not the Ripper, right?” 

”He fits the profile,” said Alana, playing the devil’s advocate as they entered the building. 

”He really doesn’t,” Will retorted. “He’s too…desperate. Insecure. The Ripper thinks he’s God.” 

Alana sighed. “I know,” she conceded. “But we have to cover all our bases and cross him off the list with complete confidence.” 

”I have complete confidence even without talking to him,” Will grumbled. “I was told I wouldn’t have to be social as Jack’s dog.” 

Alana just gave him an apologetic smile. They took a seat on a bench outside Chilton’s office since he was busy with a patient (prisoner). Will hid a wince as he sat. He hadn’t quite recovered from what Hannibal had decided to do to him yesterday night. 

”I heard they found another Ripper scene the other day,” Alana said. 

Will sighed. He didn’t think long on Gideon and Duke lit by the morning sun knowing he wouldn’t be able to completely hide his reaction. 

”Yeah. This'll be the last for hopefully longer than a couple months,” said Will. 

”You’re not worried about an escalation?” Alana asked. “He made two scenes in two days.” 

Will shook his head. “He’s too in control for that. This was an exception. He ran into Gideon somehow and decided to help him remember who he really was. That’s what the other vic was for.” Someone turned the corner and Will pushed to his feet, hiding another wince. “I need the restroom, then we can keep talking about the Ripper.” 

Alana nodded and pointed. “Down that hall and to your right.” 

”Thanks.” 

Will left, his limp a bit better than this morning. Alana had asked about it earlier and Will had just turned red which made Alana go red and quickly change topic. 

He did his business and washed his hands. As he exited, he knocked into someone who steadied him as they both stumbled. 

”Sorry,” Will mumbled and looked up just long enough to ascertain that it was Brown. He stepped back, but Brown followed, staying disconcertingly close. 

”Hello, Will.” 

”Hello, Mr. Brown,” said Will, eyes on the man’s shoulder. 

”What are you doing here?” asked Brown. 

Will shrugged. “FBI business.” 

”Can I ask about the Baron?” Brown had inched a little closer. “It was crazy being the first on the scene.” 

_I bet it was._ “I can’t tell you, but I don’t really know much anyway. I’m more focused on the Ripper.” 

Brown’s hands clenched before he clasped them behind himself. Will could nearly hear him grit his teeth as he seethed. “I see.” 

Alana appeared. “Will? Chilton’s here.” 

”Sorry, I need to go,” Will said. 

”Right. It was nice seeing you.” 

Will didn’t reply to that. He jogged (much regret in _that_ choice) to Alana and they headed back to Chilton’s office. 

”That didn’t look very fun,” she commented, voice low. 

”It wasn’t,” Will agreed. “But it was just a guy wanting case details, it’s fine.” 

”Maybe talking to Chilton will be more fun,” said Alana. 

”That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.” 

Alana laughed and Will smiled. They approached Chilton waiting by his office doors. 

Hopefully Brown would enjoy the candy Will had slipped into his pocket. 

  


=¤=

The Baron dropped a body a week after Eric Addams. Then another a week after that. 

Will reluctantly took the case on, finding it boring not just because he already knew who it was, but because it was just _boring_.

The bodies showed even more rage and a tinge of desperation. 

_Boring._

Will entered Hannibal’s study after another day of trawling through information to find the Baron. He had to give it to Brown, he knew how to cover his tracks. It made what Will wanted to do easier. 

He hugged Hannibal from behind as the man sat at his desk. Will glanced at the fancy cardstock in Hannibal’s hands. 

”Trying to figure out who else to invite?” Will asked. “I thought you already finished the list?” 

”I’m wondering if I should invite my aunt,” answered Hannibal. 

”Would she come?” 

”No,” said Hannibal. “But I would like for her to know I’m marrying you.” 

Will hummed. “Then, do it. You won’t lose anything, right?” 

”True,” Hannibal mused. He turned his head to kiss Will’s cheek. “I think I will. I’m still surprised you want Jack there.” 

Will shrugged. “I want him to at least vaguely acknowledge that I have more important things in my life than being his dog.” 

”I dislike hearing you refer to yourself as anyone else’s anything,” Hannibal said with a frown. 

”I know,” Will said and tapped a hand on an unfinished sketch to the side. “Can I commission something from you?” 

”What would you like?” 

”There’s a few things,” said Will. “Is that fine? I’ll give you a list.” 

”Is this one of those things I can’t ask you about yet?” Hannibal asked. 

”Might be.” 

Hannibal smiled. ”When would you like them?” 

”Sometime before the reception,” Will answered. 

Hannibal raised a brow. “The reception we haven’t set a date for yet?” 

”Exactly.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “You’re still certain you wish to have it in Wolf Trap?” 

”Yeah.” Will went around Hannibal to lean on the desk. “It’ll be easier there. Hey, when are we going to Emily’s opera?” 

"This Thursday, darling,” said Hannibal. “Which is also when we’ll be going to Adelmo’s for our first fitting.” 

Will chewed his lip. “I’ll give you the list tonight. Take your time with it.” 

”As you wish, my love.” 

  


=¤=

The opera was, surprisingly, in English. That said, Will barely recognized the words, more focused on the feel of things. He had been a bit worried he would fall asleep given his little Hannibal-less trip last night, but the performance had been too captivating to ignore. 

During the intermission, as Will was bringing Hannibal a glass of wine, he caught sight of someone that had him making a detour. 

”Miss Auer?” 

She turned to face him and her face lit up with a smile. “Mr. Graham!” 

”Call me Will, please.” 

”Then, you should call me Penelope.” She looked to the wine he had in one hand and the whiskey in the other. “That doesn’t look particularly healthy.” 

”The wine is for my sponsor,” Will explained. “Is yours here?” 

”Ma dame brought me here, yes,” said Penelope. “I quite enjoy performances like this and am a big fan of Ms. Classen, so we’ve come here as a treat.” 

”Are you gonna be here for long?” Will asked. 

”Three weeks,” Penelope answered. “Many of our nights will be spent in Broadway.” 

_Three weeks, huh?_ Before he could ask her another question, a hand touched his back and he turned to find Hannibal beside him. 

”Hey.” Will passed him his wine. “Sorry your wine’s late.” 

”It’s no trouble, darling.” Hannibal looked to Penelope. “Good evening.” 

”Good evening.” 

After a second, Will remembered himself. “This is Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal, this is Penelope Auer.” 

”Lovely to meet you.” 

”I was just wondering if we could invite her and her lover,” said Will. 

Hannibal thought for a moment. “That should be an easy enough adjustment to make.” 

Will smiled and tapped his ring against his glass to make her look. “Do you have time in a couple weeks for a little celebration?” 

Penelope gasped. Will switched his glass to his other hand to let her delicately hold his left and better inspect the ring. “Goodness,” she said. “The last time I saw you, you were gathering the courage to tell him you loved him.” 

Will’s face flamed. “Okay, there’s no need to bring that up.” 

”I think it’s quite endearing,” said Hannibal. 

”You opinion is unnecessary,” said Will. 

”Admiring jewelry, ma minette?” 

Penelope’s dame approached, hair in a stylishly messy bun. She wrapped an arm around Penelope’s waist. “Hello, I am Claudette Brodeur.” 

Hannibal introduced the two of them, shaking her hand. “The same Claudette Brodeur who’s been making such waves in gene therapy recently?” 

Claudette smirked. “Yes, I am.” 

”Reading your papers has been a mesmerizing experience,” Hannibal said. 

The two of them easily slipped into jargon Will didn’t even attempt to parse through. He had no idea why Hannibal was reading about gene therapy. Then, again he also had no idea why there was a human skull with precious stones for eyes in Hannibal’s study. He was at least 80% it _wasn’t_ a previous victim. He stuck to Penelope. 

”It’s a lovely ring,” Penelope sighed. 

”It really is. So, Friday two weeks from now. Are you two free?” said Will. 

Penelope nodded. “Yes, yes. Even if not, I will make time.” 

Will laughed. “Great. Tell me where you’re staying so we can send you an invitation—let me jot it down on my phone.” 

”May I?” 

”Sure.” 

Will opened a notes app and passed his phone over. As she typed, Penelope asked: “Will there be any name changing?” 

Will scrunched his nose. “We haven’t really figured that out yet. We want to hyphenate, but changing documents is gonna be so much work.” 

”I’m certain you will manage.” Penelope handed the phone back, startling a little as it began ringing in her hand. Will sighed upon seeing Jack’s name. 

”Sorry about that,” Will mumbled and took the phone, answering it. “Yes?” 

It was the Baron, of course. A new body, towards the edge of Baltimore. There was still another hour for the rest of the opera. Screw it. 

”I’m in Wolf Trap, so it’s gonna take me a while to get there,” said Will, ignoring the amused look Hannibal gave him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He hung up. Shoved his phone in his pocket. Took a swig of his whiskey. And told Hannibal: “I’m gonna need a change of clothes after this.” 

”If we leave immediately after curtains, you should be fine,” Hannibal said. 

Will nodded. Then he shrugged at Penelope and Claudette. “My job gets a little demanding.” 

”I hope you can still enjoy the rest of the show,” said Claudette. 

”I’m planning to.” 

Will couldn’t wait for both Jack and the Baron to no longer be his problem. 

  


=¤=

Will froze the moment he saw Freddie Lounds, phone in hand, leaning against the Lamborghini. He’d just wanted to buy some chips (the ones Hannibal pretended not to know Will guzzled down while hiding in the shed with his dogs) after picking something up for his little side project. He knew Hannibal would call this a well deserved punishment. 

”Hi, Mr. Graham.” 

”Doesn’t this count as harassment?” Will asked. 

”I’m just asking questions,” Freddie said, innocently. “Nice car. Dr. Lecter’s very generous.” 

”What do you want, Freddie?” Will demanded. 

”Don’t suppose I can ask for an invite to the reception?” 

_How did she even know they weren’t having a ceremony?_ “Absolutely not. It doesn’t even sound like something you’d put on your website.” 

”My readers love hearing about you,” said Freddie. “You’ve got quite a few fans thanks to me.” 

”No, thank you.” Will shifted his hold on his tote bag. “Please, let me get in my car.” 

”How’s the Bloody Baron case going?” said Freddie. 

Will raised a brow, digging through his pocket. “Proud of how everyone’s gone with that name, huh?” 

Freddie smirked. “It doesn’t really look like it’s going well. There’s been, what? Seven bodies including the one from yesterday morning?” 

”I’m not at liberty to discuss any cases with civilians.” Will finally pulled out his key fob and pushed a button. Freddie was forced to move out of the way as the door of the Lambo opened. She peeked into the car and Will very gently shoved her out of the way before she could take too long a look at the invitations on the passenger seat. 

”Got any good suspects?” 

”Goodbye, Ms. Lounds.” Will tossed his bag on top of the invitations and got in. He closed the door and left. 

Definitely some kind of punishment. 

He got home, tucked his things away and played with his dogs for a bit until he heard Hannibal get home. He found Hannibal in the parlor, a fancy looking letter in hand. 

”Who’s that from?” Will asked, cleaning the dogs paws before letting them inside. 

”My Aunt Murasaki,” said Hannibal. “A response to the invitation most likely.” 

Will raised a brow. “And to the package you sent along?” 

”She should know what my fiancé looks like.” He looked down at Rusty who’d decided to lay across his feet, but made no comment. 

”Most people would send a photo, not a three foot tall oil painting,” said Will. 

”I’m not most people.” 

Will rolled his eyes and pushed to his feet as Hannibal opened the letter. Daisy got up on the couch and laid her head on Hannibal’s thigh. 

”Want me to get you something to drink?” Will said. 

"Some coffee would be lovely, darling,” Hannibal responded. 

”Got it.” 

Will made some coffee for Hannibal and got a little bowl of Hannibal’s homemade chocolate ice cream. He brought both to the parlor, gave Hannibal his drink and nudged Daisy out of the way to claim her spot next to Hannibal. 

”So, what did she say?” 

”Age and a busy schedule make her unable to come in person, but she will be sending someone over with gifts,” said Hannibal, eyes still on the paper covered in elegant Japanese characters. 

”Is that good?” 

”It’s expected.” Hannibal put the letter aside and kissed Will’s temple. “How was your day?” 

Will shrugged. “I’m moderately concerned Freddie Lounds is planning to crash our reception, but otherwise the same kind of headache as normal. Thank God, I’ll be done with it soon.” 

”Pardon?” 

Will blinked. “Oh. Right. Um, about three weeks after the reception, I’ll tell you everything. How we’ll deal with Brown and how I’ll finally get Jack out of my life.” 

”Three weeks from then, meaning four weeks from now,” Hannibal said. 

”Yep.” Will smiled. “In a week we’ll be married and we still haven’t figured out the name situation.” 

Hannibal chuckled. “Are we not hyphenating?” 

”Did we actually completely agree on that?” 

”We did.” 

Will hummed around his spoon. “Graham-Lecter or Lecter-Graham?” 

”I would prefer the latter.” 

Will narrowed his eyes. “You just wanna go ‘Graham' whenever someone calls you Dr. Lecter, don’t you?” 

Hannibal laughed and kissed him. “You know me too well, my love.” 

Absolutely ridiculous. “Lecter-Graham it is.” 

  


=¤=

The lack of a wedding was a shame, but an altogether easy sacrifice to make for his Will’s pleasure. 

No matter the moment or circumstance Dear Will was radiant, but there was a different sort of light to him in their matching specially made white tuxedos with Sweet Williams and a rose pinned to his chest under the soft lights of the large tent set up on his Will’s property for the reception. 

Thanks to the papers they had signed mere hours ago, Dear Will was now wholly his under the eyes of the law. As he was his Will’s. 

The drumming of his heart in that moment as he had looked up from his own signature to see his Will’s smiling face was one he couldn’t recall having ever experienced before. 

Hannibal was fluent in several languages and conversational in many others, but it was beyond the realm of possibility to accurately convey what he felt or even properly describe the blessing he’d been given. 

His Will had Hannibal’s marks on his skin and his ring on his finger. 

There were no words. 

_Will and Hannibal Lecter-Graham._

Absolutely none. 

They had compromised on the size of the guest list: small enough that his Will didn’t feel _too_ tense, but big enough for Hannibal to appease his desire to show off. His darling had been rushing things along, but there had still been plenty of time for the oversea invitees to arrive. 

The Roches had brought their lovely twins along and they were incredibly well behaved throughout the night. The Riccis had _not_ brought their children along, but they had sent along their well wishes. Lukas and Gabija were too busy to come and his art teacher too elderly, but they all sent presents. Gabija had added a rather cryptic message that only his Will understood and laughed over. 

Lady Murasaki had sent Chiyo to bring gifts: a barrel of sake; a traditional kaiken for his Will (he had seemed confused by the smooth piece of wood at first, then he’d unsheathed the double edged knife and his eyes lit up); and an equally traditional shugi-bukuro: an envelope containing money. Though, instead of cash there was a check for 350,000 US dollars. 

Dear Will had taken one look at it and wordlessly passed it to Hannibal. 

A lovely darling. 

The gifts were more apt for a traditional Japanese wedding, but it didn’t surprise Hannibal that the Lady Murasaki had decided on such a route. 

Hannibal offered to house Chiyo for the duration of her stay and she declined, as expected. She knew some of what had occurred in Paris and accurately suspected the rest. She had enough knowledge to be wary, but not scared. 

_How was it that he was now able to think of Lady Murasaki without immediately locking her back into the room he’d put her in?_

The answer, of course, stood beside him, exchanging snark with Agent Katz. 

Hannibal had known how much of his own memory palace he stayed away from for his own internal peace, but he’d never been truly _aware_ of it until he could walk down those halls and open those doors with the same ease he did elsewhere. 

Even his Mischa's tower was easier to tread, though he still didn’t wander there often. But he would find himself lingering near it, feeling her as he never dared before. 

His Will was light. A light that brought new wonder to old places. 

Dear Will looked up at him, an amused smile curving his lips as a fondness filled those blue eyes in a look Hannibal had dedicated whole wings of his mind to. 

”We already have a surplus of sap, Dr. Lecter, we don’t need any more,” said his Will. 

Hannibal was unable to stop a smile of his own. “Production’s not an easy thing to cease, darling. And I do believe it’s Dr. Lecter-Graham now.” 

Dear Will laughed. “Right, my mistake.” 

_Light._

After the dinner Hannibal had helped prepare earlier in the day with his usual staff, tradition was appeased in the form of speeches and dancing. It had taken his Will a moment to let go of his discomfort from everyone staring and Hannibal took a pride in the way Dear Will near melted against him; in the way he could almost _feel_ his Will tapping at the doors of his mind asking for safe haven. 

As if Hannibal would ever deny him anything. 

They danced more with other people, Hannibal easily returning Lydia Komeda's gentle teasing and even managing to coax Chiyo into a largely silent, but elegant dance. As expected from someone so trusted by Lady Murasaki. 

Dear Will danced a little less, expertly avoiding people he didn’t know and even when with people he _did_ know, he didn’t look as at ease and happy as when dancing with Hannibal. 

Hannibal was unashamed at how much that pleased him. 

After another dance with Ms. Auer following one with Giulia, his Will deemed himself done and retreated to the head table with Alana. Hannibal swiftly followed. 

”Tired, my love?” asked Hannibal as he sat down. 

”In what sense exactly?” his Will returned. 

”Physically?” 

”Kinda.” 

”Mentally?” 

His Will grimaced. Hannibal lifted his hands to massage Dear Will’s temples. He sighed. 

”Still not allowed aspirin?” asked Alana. 

”Today’s my last day on meds,” said his Will. “By tomorrow I can start emptying bottles by the week again.” 

”I suggest you wait a few days before doing such things,” Hannibal said. 

”Boo,” Dear Will complained while Alana laughed. 

”He’s got a point,” she said. “Better to make sure all the drugs are out of your system than unintentionally mixing stuff together.” 

”Speaking of drugs,” said his Will, removing Hannibal’s hands from his head with a quick kiss to each palm. “I should go take mine. I forgot them in the house earlier.” 

Hannibal exchanged a look with Alana. “Forgot or intentionally left to have a viable excuse to get a break from the proceedings?” 

”Shut up, you.” 

Alana turned away in an attempt to hide another laugh and Dear Will stood up. He kissed Hannibal, who put a hand on his jaw to extend the kiss. He brushed his fingers over a mark hidden under his Will’s collar. He smiled at the shudder it evoked. 

There was a faint cheer from a few of their guests. 

Dear Will pulled away laughing and Hannibal rushed to memorize every detail of the scene to hoard away and draw later. 

His Will kissed him again—on the cheek this time, sweet and chaste. 

”Back in a bit.” 

Hannibal watched him walk away, somehow managing to stealthily avoid being stopped for conversation. He laughed under his breath. 

”Got any plans for a honeymoon?” Alana asked. 

His Will had left his line of vision, so Hannibal allowed his attention to go to Alana. A corner of his lip twitched up. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t suppose you could help me brainstorm a way to convince him one should be had?” 

Alana gave the ceiling of the tent an exaggerated thoughtful look. “Not sure how much I can help, you know Will better than I ever could. But I don’t mind being your soundboard.” 

Yes. He did, didn’t he? Though, much more importantly, he was _allowed_ to know. 

"Thank you, I would appreciate that.” 

Hannibal made several suggestions each more ridiculous than the last, knowing each one would never work. Alana was a delightful person and it was pleasing to make her laugh. Especially on a night like tonight, where Hannibal felt lighter than air. 

He pictured his Mischa standing on Tėvas' feet as they danced, Motina clapping along on a nearby chair. Perhaps Lady Murasaki was beside her with Uncle Robertus attempting to draw her into a dance of their own, proclaiming that he refused to lose to his older brother. Pictured the smiles that had once brought him nothing, but now brought warmth. 

_Will, Will, Will…_

Alana came down from a last bout of laughter, wiping a tear from her eye. “Okay, you have to stop.” 

”And why is that?” asked Hannibal, nudging a glass of water closer to her. 

“Because it’s getting late and Will should be around to see your guests off,” she answered before drinking. 

Hannibal conceded with a nod. “You have a point.” He went to stand, but Alana put a hand on his arm to stop him. 

She put her glass down. “I’ll go get him. You shouldn’t leave everyone.” 

Unfortunate, but true. “Thank you.” 

Alana left and Hannibal went to mingle again. A few people had to leave immediately due to responsibilities elsewhere (the Roches' twins were beginning to fuss). Hannibal let them go without issue, fewer people for his Will to be uncomfortable around. Though Hannibal couldn’t say he minded those moments when Sweet William would seek him out for comfort or protection. 

His back was to the entrance when Alana returned. She had to tap his arm to draw his focus away from Jack and Bella. He looked behind her—

And felt an odd pang of _something_ in his chest when he didn’t see Dear Will. 

”Could you come with me for a sec?” Alana said, voice low and tight. 

”Has something happened?” Hannibal replied. 

”Little bit.” Alana averted eyes full of something unfamiliar in their familiarity. She looked to Jack. “Do you have a minute?” 

Jack exchanged a look with his wife and nodded. “I think I can give you two.” 

Alana’s single nod was a quick, harsh motion. She turned effortlessly on the high heel of her shoe and marched to the exit, heading for Will’s old house. She still refused to meet Hannibal’s eyes. 

The moment they passed through the door, he knew why. 

Blood was a well known scent to him. There were subtle differences between people—so subtle, in fact, that not even he could confidently name whose blood was whose. 

But _this_ scent…the number of times air saturated with this scent had filled his lungs mingled with the smells of sweat and sex and pleasure as he bit into pale skin and tore through flesh were uncountable. 

The scent of his Will’s blood usually evoked in him a high incomparable even to what he felt when he killed or those scant few times he’d tried hard drugs out of a sense of curiosity. 

Not this time. 

He trailed behind Alana as they headed in and up. Part of him wanted to overtake her and rush towards that scent, another more childish part of him (where had that come from, he couldn’t recall ever having that before) wanted to turn away and pretend this wasn’t happening. 

He could feel doors being barricaded shut and corridors sealed away in his memory palace. 

He kept walking. Up each step. Up to the door where the scent was thickest—the bathroom. 

_Red._

There wasn’t a lot of blood. A smear on the wall and on the sink, several drops and a little puddle on the floor, nowhere near enough to be life threatening. An empty pill case was discarded in the sink along with a phone, his Will’s. A crushed rose and bloody Sweet Williams lay in the middle of the empty room. 

Oh. 

He'd stopped breathing. 

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

A scream tickled in his throat. It was an unpleasant sensation. He didn’t like it.

He choked it down. Locked it away. Along with every other word in his head. 

_How long would it be until he spoke this time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this is gonna sound like some real asshole behavior, but unfortunately I'm gonna have to take a quick break from updating because °•*○ r e a s o n s ○*•°
> 
> I am sorry, but there's some stuff I have to deal with that's gonna take up a LOT of my time.
> 
> I will be back!! I promise!! But definitely not anytime next week, I hope y'all aren't too mad.
> 
> ALSO, if I ended up doing something culturally insensitive with Murasaki and Chiyo, I assure you it was an accident because I am an idiot. Tell me and i will fix it (or attempt to), thank you for your patience!!
> 
> See you all soon!!


End file.
